


Catspaw

by Galen_Wordwyrm



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Angst, BDSM, Character Study, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Consent, Cosplay, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galen_Wordwyrm/pseuds/Galen_Wordwyrm
Summary: “While Chloé is decompressing from working at the main desk of the hotel, Sabrina accidentally discovers a submissive side of the former mayor’s daughter that neither of them never expected. Is Sabrina ready to be the Domme Chloé craves?”Chlobrina BDSM smut with a plot. Domme Sabrina Raincomprix/submissive Chloé Bourgeois.
Relationships: Chloé Bourgeois/Sabrina Raincomprix
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalahadWilder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/gifts).



A rainy Friday night at Le Grand Paris Hotel, and Chloé Bourgeois, blonde, beautiful daughter of the former Mayor of Paris was stuck, date-less yet again behind the front desk after an intolerably long day of classes at Denis Diderot University, checking in remarkably few patrons. She was bored. And irritated. Mostly because her dreams of celebrity were taking rather longer and with more effort to come to fruition than she had imagined.

She sighed, leaning on the polished white granite top of the front desk in precisely the way Daddy had repeatedly instructed her not to do, propping her chin up in one hand, staring disconsolately out the tall plate glass windows of the lobby, streetlights reflecting off the rain-silvered streets and the polished white marble floor. 

The minute hand of the ornate wall clock ‘clunked' forward one mark, counting off the wasted eternity of her life, it's relentless ticking just barely audible over the stale jazzy muzak cover of pop tunes twenty years out of date that drifted from the discreetly placed sound system speakers.

Outside in the rain, under the cover of the canopy, Ivan Bruel, one of her classmates from her days at Collége François DuPont stood uncomplaining at his post as doorman. Idly, she remembered that he and timid little Mylène had married and had a child. How many of her other classmates had moved on with their lives? Moved out of their parent's homes for that matter?

Twenty more minutes until she was released from this purgatory. Chloé groaned, banging her forehead on the counter.

Knowing it was against her father’s staff policy, she retrieved her smartphone from her purse under the counter, dialled a familiar number without looking, waiting impatiently while it rang.

“Hello?”, came the quiet voice on the other end.

“It’s about time!”, Chloé snapped. ”Get over here. Now. Bring food. You know what I like”, she commanded, then hung up without waiting for an answer. 

‘If I’m doing this, I might as well do it right!’, Chloé decided, picking up the house phone to speak with the cellar steward for the restaurant. “Hello? It’s Miss Bourgeois. I want a bottle of the best house white wine, and a bottle of sherry outside my door in ten minutes.” Chloé hung up as soon as she'd finished placing her order.

Finally, ten minutes before the end of her shift, the night desk clerk arrived to assume their duties. Chloé gave them the information about guests who’d checked in with her in a perfunctory manner, walking quickly and with ill grace to the elevator to the residential floors.

The bottles of wine and sherry were waiting for her, and Chloé unlocked the door to her suite before carrying them inside, flicking on the lights. Her bedroom had been somewhat expanded, extensively remodeled and renovated into a private, if compact fully-functional small apartment with the amenities she'd demanded as a graduation present, including an én-suite Jacuzzi bath and six square-foot glass-walled shower with a bench and rain-head fixture.

She kicked off her unfashionable uniform orthopedic anti-fatigue flats, placing the bottles on the black granite countertop of her rarely used but complete small kitchen, then pulled the elastic out of her long blonde hair, freeing it from her customary ponytail. 

“So much for being a working class hero", Chloé grumbled to the empty space, trudging to her bedroom to change into some comfortable casual clothes.

Her doorbell rang as she was pulling a comfortable t-shirt over her head. “It’s open!”, Chloé called. She heard the door open and shut, movement, sounds of paper bags being placed on the counter. A quick check in the mirror, a pull of a brush through her hair, and Chloé walked out to meet her guest.

Sabrina Raincomprix, one of Chloé’s oldest friends, her girl-of-all-work, stood near the built in table, hands clasped meekly in front of her, as usual, hair disarrayed by the vintage open-faced Vespa helmet placed by the door.

Chloé threw herself onto the still-stylish but dated red-upholstered sectional couch by the patio doors that led out onto her large private sun-deck. She remembered the screaming fight she'd had with her parents to remove the security camera so she could sunbathe nude. “Pour two glasses of wine, and bring me my supper”, she waved at Sabrina. 

Hearing the tone in Chloé’s voice, Sabrina carried the bottle and two glasses, along with two plates of food to the couch, making sure Chloé had firmly gripped her plate before relaxing, setting down her own plate to pour two glasses of wine while sitting on the carpeted floor. 

Chloé took several large sips of the sweet white wine, then pressed the cool glass to her aching forehead. “Where did it go wrong?”, she asked quietly, eyes closed.

Sabrina sipped her own wine, thinking before she dared to reply. “Umm, I don’t know?”

One sapphire eye opened to glare at Sabrina, who suddenly found her plate very interesting.

Chloé stared out the window. “Heroes Day. I think…it was Heroes Day. When DuPain kissed Adrian in the park”, she said quietly. 

The two young women ate and drank in silence, and Sabrina took their plates to the kitchen when they were done, then refilled their wineglasses.

“You can sit on the couch you know", Chloé offered.

Sabrina nodded. “I know. I just like sitting on the floor.” 

Rain beat at the patio doors in fitful waves, lightning flickered in the distance, thunder rumbling softly some several heartbeats later.

“It was simpler their, wasn’t it?”, Chloé asked, looking down at her companion.

Sabrina smiled, fondly and a little sad behind her glasses. “We had some good times, dressing up and playing Ladynoir.”

Chloé scoffed. “Can you believe I kept those stupid costumes? Even though…’He’…doesn’t send out akuma in anywhere near the numbers he used to.” 

“I…wonder if they still…you know, fit?”, Sabrina asked hesitantly.

Chloé drained her glass, held it out imperiously to be refilled. “I’m almost drunk enough to find out. I’ve gained a ton of weight since our days at François DuPont.” Sabrina eyed the bottle and her friend dubiously, but did as she was told.

Moments later, Sabrina neatly plucked the wineglass out of Chloé’s hand as she got up and wobbled only slightly to the bedroom to rummage through boxes in her modest walk-in closet. Sabrina watched from the doorway, until Chloé let out a small cry of triumph, holding out a vacuum sealed clothes bag that held familiar custom-made spandex costumes, one scarlet with sable polka-dots, the other shimmering midnight black.  
The bag hissed as Chloé opened it, tossing Sabrina the Chat Noir costume. 

Without warning, Chloé started stripping, and Sabrina retreated blushing to the living room to change.

Sabrina had just pulled the zipper closed on the snug fitting costume that had been skin-tight when she was fifteen, when Chloé leapt onto the couch. 

“Beware, akumatised scourge! Ladybug will exorcise and de-evilize you!”, Chloé announced dramatically in the stereotypical three-point ‘hero landing’ crouch. 

Sabrina swallowed in a suddenly bone dry throat.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”, Chloé teased, blinking playfully at Sabrina.

“Uhhh…”, Sabrina said intelligently, taking in the luscious curves of the spandex-clad figure of her one-time classmate.

“Have you been akumatised, kitty? Do I need to capture you with my yo-yo? Punish you for your evil deeds?”

Sabrina blinked. “You’ll have to catch me first!”, and started dodging and dashing about the suite, leaping over the sofa, sliding over then under Chloé’s empress bed to escape, both of them laughing in remembered joy of the game.

The pursuit returned to the bedroom after two rapid circuits of the living room. Chloé slipped on the carpet, and Sabrina pounced, pinning her friend to the wide bed.

“Oh no! The noble and brave Ladybug has been captured by the nefarious akumatised Chat Noir!”, Chloé panted, back of her hand to her forehead in mock distress. “What evil fate awaits her?”

“I was never akumatised! You were!”, Sabrina accused, playing the part of Chat Noir to the hilt for her friend. “You teased and tormented a poor, defenceless kitty, and now you’re going to be punished!” Chloé rose up on hands and knees.

Caught up in the moment, emboldened by the several glasses of wine she'd consumed, fueled by years of pent-up attraction, Sabrina caught the length of the Chat Noir belt/tail, and before she could think about what she was doing, laid a searing stripe across the presented globes of Chloé’s curvaceous bottom with a thundering -CRACK- as leather met spandex-clad skin. “Cataclysm!”, Sabrina cried in triumph.

Chloé’s long blonde mane flicked as her head snapped up, blue eyes wide in shock, mouth hanging open for a breathless moment, then a long wailing moan as she trembled violently, legs shaking, fists clenching the princess pink silk bedspread into knots.

“Ohmigod! Chloé! I’m so sorry!”, Sabrina frantically apologised, moving to embrace her stricken friend.

“MORE!”, Chloé moaned. “Again!”

“What?!”, Sabrina squeaked, thoroughly confused.

“Hit. Me. Again!”, Chloé commanded, panting, eyes clouded by lust.

“What?!”

“Do it!!”, Chloé screamed, wriggling her bottom invitingly. “Just like that! Do it now!” 

Sabrina obeyed without thinking, lashing Chloé repeatedly on her ass, two or three clumsy strokes landing on the backs of Chloé’s thighs, making her buck and scream. One strike resulted in the tip of the belt impacting Chloé’s swollen, now-hypersensitive vulva, resulting in a shriek that ended as Sabrina’s victim collapsed, face down on the bed, shaking, semi-coherent.

Sabrina leapt on the bed, cradling her trembling, twitching friend. “I’m sorry! I'm so, so sorry", she bawled, rocking and consoling Chloé. “Will you ever forgive me?!”

Chloé panted, tears streaking her ruined make-up, clumsily petting Sabrina to reassure her. “That…(pant)…was…(tremble/pant)…fucking amazing…”, she whispered breathlessly, eyes glazed by post-orgasmic endorphins. Chloé took several shaky deep breaths to slow her pounding heart, and pulled Sabrina into a hungry, demanding kiss.

“We are definitely doing that again!”, Sabrina giggled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahoy!

A flicker of lightning, closer, thunder rolling through the black Paris night.

Chloé nuzzled closer to Sabrina, sighing contentedly as her former classmate idly stoked Chloé’s long blonde hair and gently rocked her on the massive empress bed that dominated the room. Silent tears slid from under Sabrina's costume Chat Noir domino mask.

“You’re going to get a chill if you fall asleep in your costume", Sabrina whispered, scared that her voice would break the fragile spell. “Let’s get you into a nice warm shower, then into bed, alright?” She felt the small nod, heard the quiet response.

“Okay.”

Sabrina helped Chloé up off the bed, leading her to the èn-suite bathroom. Sabrina fumbled with the small, beautifully concealed zipper after starting the shower and adjusting the water temperature to run warm, drawing it down the length of Chloé’s toned body, helping her peel out of the sweat-dampened clinging fabric, revealing the bright red weals that marred the lightly tanned delicate skin of Chloé’s bottom and backs of her thighs, Chloé whimpering slightly as the costume was removed, Sabrina helping her step free of the molded-in-place shoe soles, feeling each mild protestation lance through her heart.

She, and she alone was responsible for Chloé suffering.

Making sure Chloé was well under the warm spray, Sabrina took a shuddering breath, peeling out of her own clinging attire, making sure a pile of the softest, fluffiest towels she could find were near to hand, and stepped under the spray with Chloé. Being as gentle as possible, Sabrina washed her blonde friend, desperately trying to ignore the reddened skin left by her belt, the earthy scent of Chloé’s obvious arousal. 

Eventually, Sabrina finished her ministrations to Chloé, and tended to her own needs as quickly as possible, then turned off the water. Out of the shower enclosure, she dried Chloé delicately, then briskly towelled herself off, and escorted her friend to sit on the bed while she rummaged for something to wear to sleep in, deciding on two large t-shirts.

Chloé managed to get the shirt on by herself, gasping and shivering as she maneuvered beneath the sheet and duvet, lying on her stomach, gasping again when Sabrina pulled the covers up. “No, please! Just the sheet for now!”

Sabrina patted Chloé on her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Chloé grinned drunkenly. “Don’t be. I’m not.”

Sabrina wiped away a tear. “Goodnight, Chloé.”

“Goodnight, mon chaton", Chloé mumbled into her pillow. 

After retrieving a second duvet, Sabrina turned out all the lights in the apartment and retreated to the sectional sofa, wrapped in the duvet staring out into the storm lashed night, thoughts racing, chasing each other, hoping, dreading. Fearing.

She must have dozed off at some point, but woke to the sounds of nauseated distress coming from the bedroom. Heart pounding, Sabrina made it just in time to get Chloé to the bathroom where she was violently ill into the toilet, Sabrina holding back her hair while Chloé retched repeatedly, gasping, moaning.

When she was done, Sabrina got Chloé to rinse her mouth out with water and drink a few gentle sips after that, supporting Chloé’s shaky steps back to the bed, helping her to lie down on her stomach again, drawing up the sheet once more.

Sabrina didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

She turned on the stove hood light, washing the supper plates as quietly as possible, stifling her sobs until her shoulders ached from shaking, then tidied the living room, swept the floors, gathered the soiled costumes to be cleaned, folded the towels into the laundry hamper, and waited, staring out the windows until she heard Chloé stir.

Sabrina had brewed a pot of vanilla Earl Grey tea, and two slices of toast were warm and buttered just-so on a small plate waiting on the dining table when Chloé wandered out of her bedroom, sitting gingerly on the kitchen chair with a hissing intake of breath and a teeth-gritted yip of discomfort.

“God, my ass is on fire...", Chloé grimaced, trying not to put too much weight on her tenderised posterior. 

Sabrina twisted and wrung a tea-towel almost to death. “I’m so sorry!”

Chloé scoffed, brushing her blonde hair back. “What for?”

“I-I’m the one who…who…”, Sabrina mumbled, ashamed, looking at the floor.

Chloé tapped Sabrina's toe with her own, and Sabrina looked up, not meeting Chloé’s eyes. “I’m the one who asked you, told you to do it.”

Chloé rubbed at her eyes with one hand. “That said, it’s my own fault I got so drunk last night. I hope I didn’t make a fool out of myself.”

Sabrina shook her head. “I should be going.”

“Have you eaten?” The question surprised Sabrina. “There’s not a lot in the kitchen, but make yourself something first, okay?”

Sabrina nodded, then busied herself while Chloé nibbled at the toast and sipped some of the tea.

When Sabrina sat down, Chloé gazed at her friend, studying her. “You’ve been awake all night, haven’t you?”, Chloé demanded.

Sabrina nodded.

“You’re in no shape to ride that stupid scooter of yours! We're both going back to bed as soon as breakfast is done”, Chloé ordered. “I’ll sit on you if I have to!”

They ate quickly, Chloé ordering Sabrina to leave the dishes in the kitchen sink, and marched her into the bedroom, telling her to lie down, then slipping into bed beside Sabrina, flicking off the lamp with a groan.

A few moments awkward silence lying in the shadows, bodies shifting in the bed, trying to get comfortable.

“I’m cold.” Chloé’s voice. Sabrina snuggled closer as the ‘big spoon', feeling the heat radiating from Chloé’s bottom, snugging the duvet up over their shoulders. A quiet, gentle sigh from Chloé, and a few minutes later, rhythmic breathing of sleep.

“This definitely isn’t like the sleepovers we had during school", Sabrina whispered to the shadows.

Eventually she slept.

*-*-*

Sabrina opened her eyes. Near silence, save for the quiet breathing coming from Chloé. 

As stealthily as possible, Sabrina slid out of Chloé’s bed, crept into the living room, and retrieved her clothes and phone. The sun told her it was mid-Saturday afternoon while she hurriedly dressed, cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

Her first, and last, walk of shame she vowed to herself.

A page torn out of her notebook for a message.

‘Dearest Chloé,  
I can’t explain what happened last night.  
I only hope you can forgive me.  
I need time to think. Please.  
I’ll be in touch soon.  
Your Chaton.’

Sabrina lifted her vintage Vespa helmet off the floor, slipped it on, adjusted the buckle, and flipped the visor down. ‘My armor', she thought to herself. ‘With it, I’m invisible.’

Nodding, Sabrina opened the door, thankful for hotel fittings, tripped the handle to lock behind her, and departed, trotting down the emergency stairs to the lobby, slipping out a side door remembered from her school days.

Sabrina recovered her treasured restored 1963 Vespa 150 GL, wheeling it down the street for two blocks before hopping on the saddle and kick-starting the custom painted turquoise scooter to life, it’s small motor’s reedy rattle powering through the Paris traffic.

She couldn’t go home. Not yet.

The turquoise Vespa vanished into the Paris streets.

*-*-*

Tom DuPain looked up from his accounts when the bell over the door chimed merrily. 

“You might want to hurry. We’re closing for the night soon.” Tom blinked, recognising the slender red-head when she removed her helmet. “Sabrina, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Good evening, Monsieur DuPain. I’m looking for Marinette.” 

Tom shook his head. “I’m sorry, she’s been out with Adrian all day. We’re not expecting her back until tomorrow night.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Sabrina put her helmet back on and departed. Tom heard the reedy whine of her Vespa as she rode off.

*-*-*

Sabrina filled the small gas tank on her scooter, then spent several hours riding the twisting backstreets of Paris, trying desperately to distract herself from visions of glorious blonde hair, shining blue eyes, and soft golden skin that was defaced by the savage vermilion welts left by Chat Noir’s belt in her hand.

The blaring of a transport truck air-horn was her only warning as she frantically twisted her scooter’s throttle, wrenching the handlebars as she tried to avoid the massive vehicle bearing down on her…

*-*-*

“Sabrina?”

No answer. The apartment was dark as night, silent as a tomb.

Empty as her heart.

Pale paper shone on moon-silvered scarlet table-top.

“Oh, no…”


	3. Chapter 3

Monday morning, and Chloé Bourgeois, blond, beautiful, composed Chloé Bourgeois was, in a word, pissed. The concept of outrage failed to do her dark mood justice, the word anger a faint reflection on her attitude, and wrath found a deep, dark, very tiny hole to hide in and pulled it shut to avoid her. 

If one of Hawk Moth’s akuma had alighted on her it would have spontaneously combusted before that corrupted moron could utter a single oily insinuation.

Sunday had been a travesty, having to endure a tedious and invective laden lecture by her father about the responsibilities of her duties as a hotel desk clerk and the peril of over-indulging in alcohol while he self-righteously breathed hypocritical fumes of inexpensive brandy on her, all while Chloé was worrying about a silly girl who had wandered off in a snit because they’d had a bit of drunken slap and tickle.

Nobody dared sit close to the scowling daughter of the former Mayor of Paris as the underground lurched and shuddered through the stations on her way to class.

Chloé’s mood had not improved because of the slew of unanswered texts and numerous ignored phone calls she has made to her soon-to-be-former friend. 

The students and professor in her first class of the day grated on her, and the public humiliation of being called out for failing to turn in her project was all Sabrina’s fault, in no small part because Sabrina wasn’t in class. The second block was no different, and still no sign of that irritating ginger snap!

Chloé stalked across the university common like a predator with a thorn in its paw and an infected tooth. She even snapped at the senior class men whom she normally flirted shamelessly with. 

A flutter of bright red hair and a turquoise skirt in the rush of students between classes caught her eye. ‘Got you now!’, Chloé exulted to herself, grinning like a shark, closing in for the kill as the slender girl neared a convenient bathroom door.

“In!”, Chloé snarled, shoving Sabrina between the shoulder-blades, thrusting the red-head past the swinging door.

“Hey!”, Sabrina yelped indignantly. Chloé blocked her exit. 

“Just where the hell have you been?!”, Chloé demanded. 

Sabrina’s lower lip trembled, hands balled into fists, torn between fright and fury. “I told you I needed some time to think!”, she hissed. “You'd know that if you ever bothered to read my notes! And I’m fine, thank you! The freight van missed me by inches!”

“What?! What freight van?! Where?!”, Chloé gasped, patting Sabrina gently, searching for injuries.

Sabrina brushed Chloé aside, turning to open a stall door. “I said I’m fine! Leave me alone!”

Chloé fumed. “I was worried about you, you little twit!”

Sabrina turned on Chloé, fire in her green eyes. “I was scared I hurt you!”, she howled.

The two young women stood there, breathing hard, glaring at each other as the bathroom door opened, and a surprised female student stared at them for a second.

“OUT!!”, Sabrina and Chloé both yelled, not taking their eyes off each other.

“I’m gone", the girl said, retreating, the door sighing closed on its hydraulic piston arm.

Chloé seized the opportunity to suddenly wrap Sabrina in a tight embrace, startling the red-head. “Don’t scare me like that, okay? I thought you’d done something stupid and hurt yourself", she mumbled into Sabrina's shoulder.

Hesitantly, tentatively, Sabrina returned the embrace. “I thought I’d hurt you really badly that night, when we, when I…”, she whispered. “Will you ever forgive me?”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. Ow!”, Sabrina yipped when Chloé swatted her bottom. Sabrina returned the favor, harder, her palm cracking on Chloé’s ass, making her gasp, hips slamming against Sabrina's.

“Ohmigod! I forgot! I’m sorry!”, Sabrina whimpered. “Let me take a look!”

Chloé didn’t resist as Sabrina led her into the larger handicapped stall, biting her lip as Sabrina fumbled at the button and zipper of her fashionably tight white jeans, sliding them down her tanned legs to her knees, exposing her livid red and purple bruises left by the kiss of Sabrina's belt. Feather-light touch traced the broad welts, making her legs shake as Chloé pressed her forehead to the cool tile wall. She felt like she was burning with fever. Soft fingers pulled aside black silk panties to show the marks on her bottom. Chloé bit her thumb, choking on a moan.

“Oh my poor, brave girl. Getting dressed must have been a nightmare", Sabrina cooed.

“Kiss it better? Please?”, Chloé begged softly, looking over her shoulder into benevolent green eyes.

‘I can’t believe I’m doing this!’, Sabrina thought frantically to herself as she leaned closer to Chloé. ‘What if we get caught?!’ Sabrina’s lips grazed the discolored, sensitive skin of Chloé’s bottom, planting a string of tender pecks, whispering encouraging endearments as she went. Chloé clawed at the tiles, gasping, hips bucking. Sabrina felt drunk on the scent of Chloé’s arousal.

“Oh, god! Stop! Please!”, Chloé whimpered. “I feel like I’m going to scream if you. Don’t. Stop. Right. Now!”, her last word almost a panting moan. The kisses stopped, and Chloé felt Sabrina lean into her back, trembling, pressing her into the cold tile.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, why this is happening", Sabrina breathed in Chloé’s ear. “I’m scared. And part of me likes it. And that scares me more.”

The bathroom door banged open. “Everything okay in here?”, a female proctor announced herself.

Sabrina retreated to the opposite side of the handicapped stall, as Chloé sat on the toilet. “Yes, I’m fine", she called. 

Silence.

“Huh. Alright then”, the proctor grunted, mollified.

Sabrina and Chloé waited until after the door closed before breathing again. 

Chloé glanced up at Sabrina. “I’ll leave first. Help me get dressed.”

It was a good five minutes before Chloé exited the bathroom. More than half an hour later, Sabrina crept out, certain she was about to be exposed and escorted off campus, banished in disgrace.

The hallway was empty.

*-*-*

Sabrina was a jittery, nerve-wracked mess for the remainder of the day. Her ride home had no less than three near misses. If she didn’t get a handle on this, she was going to get seriously hurt. One interminable stop to replace her crushed smartphone and transfer the SIM card and stored memory, and she was back online. With several dozen increasingly frantic texts and phone messages from Chloé waiting for her from the weekend, plus a half dozen new ones from today.

Her father looked at her with concern as she dropped her backpack by the door, kicking off her shoes, and padding upstairs to her room. He announced himself with a knock on her door.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

“Yeah, dad. Just school things on my mind.”

“Alright.” Sabrina waited until she heard the football match sounds from the television before closing her door and answering the most recent text from Chloé. 

*New phone, same number.  
Old one died under a truck.*

*-*-*

Chloé only jumped out of her skin when her phone buzzed and pinged in her back pocket as a text arrived, causing an indecent thrill to race through her belly, making her hips twitch. “Thank God this is a private elevator”, she grumbled, then remembered the security camera in the upper corner.

Her legs were visibly shaking as she fumbled at the lock to her suite, throwing the door open and slamming it shut, engaging the locks before she stumbled to her bedroom and almost ripped her clothes off, moaning in relief, flopping facedown on her bed.

The cool breeze from her window teased her with a memory of Sabrina's kisses, and she insistently caressed and stroked her slick, sensitive pussy, flicking her clitoris gently as she stared at Sabrina’s picture on her phone. 

Her orgasm hit her like a velvet wave, her belly fluttering as her hips bucked against the mattress, the phone slipping out of her grasp. Chloé’s blue eyes drifted closed as her fingers traced the lines of fire on her ass.

“Oh god", Chloé whimpered as an aftershock whipped her, “What did you do to me, Sabrina?”

She lay there, panting, longing. Chloé groped blindly for her phone, lifting it with trembling fingers. It took her three tries to send a reply to Sabrina.

*Come soon.* 

The electronic device purred and pinged in response.

*Not until Friday night.*

Chloé threw the phone across the room and sobbed in frustration.


	4. Chapter 4

The week dragged on for Chloé, with little chance for diversion between increasingly demanding university classes and the dreary hours behind the front desk at Le Grand Paris Hotel. She got progressively more irritable, throwing snide remarks at people between classes, getting into arguments with instructors, and snapping at hotel staff. Text messages to Sabrina were answered quickly, brief perfunctory replies, and Sabrina was her typical helpful self, with an unexpected but polite distance, as if they were both waiting for the other to answer an unasked question. 

The entire time Chloé felt as if Sabrina was somehow judging her behavior.

Finally, it was Friday. Chloé texted Sabrina, informing her she would be off shift at ten in the evening, and to bring sushi. Chloé was jittery with anticipation, and she found herself rubbing the healing welts on her bottom against the corner or edge of the front desk to cause a ripple of sensation that only heightened her arousal.

As soon as her replacement arrived, Chloé almost ran to the private elevator, tapping her foot in frustration at its leisurely ascent to the residential floors. Once inside her suite, Chloé opened the refrigerator to retrieve some chilled bottles of imported Belgian beer and put them on the black granite countertop, before a quick shower to refresh herself, fighting the rising temptation to enjoy a self-indulgent masturbation session.

“No", she told herself firmly. “That’s for later.” A leisurely supper awaited her, and Chloé dressed in a pair of black leggings and a deeply cut v-neck light knit sweater in a brilliant yellow. She grinned impishly at her reflection as she donned elegant gold hoop earrings, knowing the leggings and sweater was all that she was wearing.

Chloé turned on a strategic lamp or two, letting the light match the mood, and arranged herself to best effect on her sectional sofa to wait.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Where was she?

Eighteen minutes.

At twenty-five minutes past ten, Chloé stomped into her bedroom to retrieve her smartphone, jabbing a manicured finger at the touchscreen, sitting on her sofa in a huff.

Sabrina's number rang. Twice.

Four times.

Five.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?!”, Chloé shrilled. She could hear traffic in the background.

“Downstairs. Outside.”

“What?! Why?!”

“I’m scared, Chloé. I’m scared I’ll hurt you again”, Sabrina explained. 

“We're not doing that tonight”, Chloé purred, smiling.

“You promise?”

“Come upstairs. We'll have a late supper and make a girls night of it”, Chloé entreated. “I promise, no Ladynoir tonight. Please come up.”

Silence.

“Alright”, Sabrina finally agreed. 

A few minutes later, a soft knock on the door.

“It’s open!”, Chloé called from the couch. 

Sabrina entered, setting aside a wide platter before removing her Vespa helmet and placing it on the floor, then carried the sushi platter into the kitchenette, making up two plates.

“Bring two beers when you come. They’re imported”, Chloé suggested.

Sabrina brought the food and the beers, sitting on the floor before passing a plate to Chloé, then snapping the take-out chop sticks apart and handing a pair to her blonde friend. “You shouldn’t drink so much", Sabrina scowled as Chloé took a sip of beer.

Chloé paused, bottle almost touching her pink lips, then lowered it. “You’re really worried about me.”

“Of course I am”, Sabrina frowned, consuming several pieces of sushi without really tasting them. “You’re just about the only friend I have left from François DuPont, and now…now I don’t know where I stand.” Soft lamp light flashed on Sabrina's glasses. “We're not friends the way we used to be. Now we're…something else, something different.”

Chloé patted the couch. “Sit up here.”

Sabrina glowered at her.

“Please.”

Sabrina sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, arms crossed, distrustful.

Chloé reached out, running her fingers through Sabrina's red hair. 

Sabrina almost didn’t flinch. “Please don’t do that.” Chloé withdrew her hand, stung.

“Sabrina, what we did last Friday, what you did to me", Chloé explained, “It’s something new to me, something exciting. And I want to explore it.” 

Sabrina stared out the patio doors into the Paris night. Chloé fidgeted, unsure of herself.

“Please. You’re the only person I trust with this, Sabrina!”

“I already hurt you!”

“Yes! Yes, you did. I wanted you to hurt me! I needed it! I still need it!”, Chloé pleaded. “I’ve…I had boyfriends, more than one, and none of them ever made me feel what you did, how you did! None of them…none of them satisfied me!” 

“So you want me to be your sex doll now?”, Sabrina huffed, offended.

Chloé looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, Sabrina. I need you. I need what you do to me.”

“What about what I want, what I need?!”, Sabrina demanded, hand beating against her breast.

Chloé stared at Sabrina, eyes searching. “What do you want?”

“I. Don’t. Know!!”, Sabrina yelled.

“Then let's find out! Together!”, Chloé pleaded.

“I feel like you’re trying to seduce me.”

Chloé threw out her arms in exasperation. “I am! I’ve been trying all night!”

Sabrina grabbed the neck of Chloé’s sweater and yanked her into a passionate kiss, nibbling, biting, demanding. “I. Am. So. Scared. Right. Now! I want you, and I don’t know why I want you!”, she panted into Chloé’s mouth, staring into her blue eyes.

“Oh god! Yes, that’s it! Pinch my tits! Please! Ahhhhh!!”, Chloé moaned, head thrown back as Sabrina squeezed her breasts firmly. She felt Sabrina's fingers of one hand tangle in her long blonde hair, tugging, exposing her throat, felt Sabrina bite and suck at her neck, Sabrina’s other hand pinching Chloé’s erect ripple. “Ahhhh! Yes! Mark me! Show the world I’m yours!” Chloé was unresisting, lost in a flood of licentious sensation. 

Sabrina pulled back, green eyes darting, inspecting Chloé as she panted. “T-take off your c-clothes! St-strip!”, she commanded. Chloé scrambled to obey, peeling off her sweater and tights, letting out a soft moan as the cloth whispered over the almost healed welts on her bottom, standing utterly exposed in front of Sabrina, vulnerable in a way she had never experienced. Her hands fluttered, Chloé unsure, insecure, wanting conceal her nudity, but craving Sabrina's frank inspection.

A deep, shaky breath. “Turn around!” Chloé stared out into the Paris night, seeing the fabled city in its illuminated state, hands clenched at her sides. A faint warm trickle slowly, almost imperceptibly slid down one inner thigh. Touch, gentle, feather-light traced the fading bruises on her ass and thighs. 

“Almost gone.”

Fingers teasingly caressed the skin on Chloé‘s bottom, grazed her hipbone, and traced up her spine. Chloé shivered, trembling in anticipation. 

“I was watching you in class, Chloé. You were being horrid for no reason.”

“Yes, Sabrina”, Chloé whispered. 

“You teased me ever since I arrived tonight.”

“Yes, Sabrina.”

“You should be disciplined.”

“Yes, Sabrina!”, Chloé moaned.

“I spent all week researching what I should do. My father almost caught me. Do you know how embarrassing that was?”

“No, Sabrina! I’ve been looking up things too! Can we go to the bedroom now? Please?!”

“No.”

Chloé’s heart hammered in her chest, emotions ripping and tearing at each other.

“Don’t you move. Not an inch.”

“Yes, Sabrina!” Chloé froze, standing naked in front of her patio doors. Movement behind her, sounds from the bedroom. A bag rustled, items being withdrawn. 

“What do you expect me to do with all this?”

“Tie me up! Punish me! Please!!”

A sound Chloé had never heard before, uncoiled rope falling to the floor. Loops wound clumsily around her chest, biting into her sensitive breasts, pinning her arms to her sides, her wrists tied firmly behind her with shaking hands, Sabrina's ragged breathing. Chloé was turned to face the couch, and a gentle push told her to kneel leaning against the cushioned back, the pressure making her rope-constricted breasts throb in time with her racing heart.

Sabrina lifted the black riding crop, standing behind Chloé to her left.

Chloé jumped when the first blow landed, leaving a faint sting. “Harder!”

A second stinging impact. “More. Harder!”

“Stop bossing me around!” A searing lash that made Chloé buck.

“Yes!!”, Chloé moaned. “Like that!!”

“Stop. Telling. Me. What. To. Do!!” Sabrina enunciated each searing stroke across Chloé’s ass, leaving a patchwork of red welts.

“MORE!!”, Chloé begged.

The crop was thrown to the floor in frustration, startling Chloé, and Sabrina gripped the rope for leverage, raining a long-deserved open-handed stinging spanking to Chloé. 

“Stop! Being! Such! A! Brat!” Five echoing slaps that left Sabrina with a painfully stinging right hand.

“YES!! God, yes! Aaaaaaaahn!”, Chloé shrieked in orgasm, a flood of release washing over her, leaving her gasping open-mouthed for breath.

Sabrina stood behind her, her own emotions raging with each other.

“Kiss it better? Please?”

Sabrina dropped to her knees behind Chloé, hot breath teasing her bright red bottom.

“Please?!”

Chloé jumped when she felt the first kiss, moaned at the second, surrendered at the third. She bit and chewed at the cushions, hands working frantically, desperate to caress Sabrina.

And then it happened.

Sabrina’s tongue. A teasing, exploratory darting into Chloé, flicking her sensitive vulva.

Chloé somehow flipped face up on the couch, legs spread and folded in open invitation, hands pinned painfully beneath her back. Sabrina experimented, licking, nibbling, sucking, even gently biting Chloé on the inner thigh, hands reaching up to squeeze and caress, Chloé babbling nonsense, riding the crest of a wave that would obliterate her when it broke.

One deep, shuddering inhalation, and Chloé exploded in release, belly rippling, breasts jiggling, hips bucking. A long wailing moan.

Sabrina rocked back, stunned. What had just happened?

Chloé whimpered, panting. “I can’t feel my hands…”

Sabrina's head snapped up. “What?!”

“They’re all tingly…”

“Roll over!” Chloé complied. “Oh shit! Oh damn!”

Fingers fumbled at the knots. “No, no, no, no, no! Shit! Don’t move!”

Sabrina ran to the kitchenette, drawers slamming open and closed, utensils and flatware ratting, muttering. “Got it!” She raced back to Chloé. 

“Don’t you dare move!”, Sabrina ordered fiercely, protective. “I don’t want to cut you, so don’t move!”

Chloé held her breath as Sabrina severed the bindings with shaking hands. The ropes fell away, and Chloé rolled to face Sabrina.

“Show me your hands! Flex them!”, Sabrina yelped, rubbing the circulation back into them. “Oh god, Chloé! I did it again! I did it again! I’m so sorry!”

“I’m okay. I’m okay”, Chloé reassured Sabrina, squeezing her hands in return, sitting up. “I’m okay, see?”

Sabrina hugged Chloé tightly, weeping. “I’m so sorry!”

Chloé kissed Sabrina's throat. “I wanted it. I needed it. I need you.”

“Forgive me?”

“Always.”

Sabrina sniffled. “You’re a mess. I smudged your make-up horribly.”

Chloé caught one of Sabrina's hands, kissed it. “You can make it up to me in the shower.”

*-*-*

Chloé found Sabrina sitting on the sofa, mug of tea in both hands, staring at the city in the light of dawn.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Chloé sat beside her friend, silent, not touching her.

“You scare me. I scare me.” Sabrina sipped her tea, not looking at Chloé.

Chloé rubbed at the ropemarks on her wrists. Sabrina glanced at the motion.

“Is that what it felt like, running across the roofs? The power? The control? The freedom?”

“Yes", Chloé whispered.

Sabrina stood, set the tea mug down, and retrieved her discarded clothes from the bedroom, dressing unashamedly in front of a quiet Chloé. 

Chloé watched her, silently terrified something precious had been shattered.

Sabrina moved to the front door, picked up her Vespa helmet, put it on and flipped down the visor, then opened the door.

“I’ll be back on Friday.”

The door closed.


	5. Chapter 5

Sabrina pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a fingertip in a motion born of long practice as the elderly freight elevator rattled and protested its way to the top floor of the old factory that had been renovated into an artist’s colony. The door slid apart vertically, the wooden safety gate clattering up to admit her to the loft living space of her old François DuPont classmates Rose Lavilant and Juleka Couffaine-Lavilant.

“Hey, Sabrina", Juleka greeted her shyly with a wave. Sabrina watched, slightly scandalized as Juleka moved about the space in what seemed to be nothing more than a folded piece of black cloth that almost reached her knees, held by decorative pins at the shoulders and a cord belt at her trim waist. 

“Sabrina!”, Rose called delightedly. “We haven’t seen you in ages! Come sit and tell me all about life as a university girl!" Rose’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Sabrina joined her at the table, where Juleka placed a pot of tea before resuming playing guitar in the background. 

“So Kitty Section is still a thing?”

“You bet! And Marinette’s costume designs are still knocking them dead!”, Rose grinned.

Sabrina looked around the loft, noting the dark exposed timbers and unpainted stonework, with steel beam rafters holding up the roof. Furniture was positioned according to purpose, and the kitchen and large bathroom shared a corner. The opposite corner where Juleka was noodling on her bass was hung with sound traps and equipment racks created an efficient small recording studio. A large wooden ‘X' stood a few feet from the wide bed.

Rose’s blonde pixie cut bobbed. “So, how are things?”, she smiled, pouring two cups of tea. 

Sabrina waved a hand. “Oh, you know. Chloé is Chloé. Classes are interesting. Dad is still a cop”, she laughed nervously.

“Did you buy that Vespa you had your eye on?”

Sabrina nodded. “She’s completely restored now!”

Rose sipped her tea. A pause. 

“You’re not here to chat about old times, are you, Sabrina?”

Sabrina stiffened, arms straight in her lap. “No.”

Another pause. Rose sighed, setting down her cup, looking at Sabrina.

“How do you…how do you and Juleka, you know, do it?”

“That’s incredibly personal, Sabrina” Rose frowned. Rose never frowned.

Sabrina waved her hands, mortified. “No! No! That’s not what meant! I mean… how did you know that you and she, that you were…how does it work as a couple?” 

“What’s going on, Sabrina?”

It took an hour, but eventually Sabrina told Rose everything.

Rose leaned back in her chair, hand over her eyes, then her lips, thinking, processing.

“Mother of God. What a mess.”

Juleka paused nearby. “Everything alright, Rose?”

“Yes, love. I’ll call if I need you.”

“Yes, Rose.”

Rose leaned over the table. “I need you to be completely, absolutely honest with me, Sabrina.” 

Sabrina nodded.

“Is this your first time as a Domme?”

“Yes.”

Rose looked away, fist to her chin. “Is this your first relationship? Male or female?”

“Until last Friday, I’d never…anything. With anyone. Ever!”

Rose covered her face with both hands, groaning in annoyance, head back. “Aaaaagh, Jesus Christ! WHY?!”, Rose demanded.

“It…just happened”, Sabrina said meekly. “I, we…we were playing Ladynoir, like we used to, and it just happened. And she was so happy, so content. But…but I hurt her! And…and…and…”, Sabrina bawled.

Rose embraced her friend, consoling her. “Aw, sweetie, it’s alright, it’s alright. No one is mad at you. Shhhhh.”

Sabrina’s sobs slowed, dropped off to hiccups. She looked up at Rose. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing is happening, it’s just the way you are", Rose explained gently, looking Sabrina straight in the eye. “Honey, you’re gay.” 

Sabrina blinked. “Huh? I’m… like you and Juleka?”

Rose nodded. “In more ways than you think. And it sounds like you’ve had a crush on Chloé since forever.”

“Oh.”

“You’re taking this awfully well", Rose said with a note of concern. “Are you okay?”

Sabrina giggled, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, not at all. This is just me internally screaming. Once I have a chance to settle down and get a handle on all this, I’ll break down and have proper panic attack.” She suddenly folded double over her knees. “Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick!”

Rose laid a gentle hand on Sabrina's shoulder. “Breathe, honey. You’re safe. Focus on your breathing. Slow. In and out. Jule, darling, get the big bowl, and some water in a glass.” 

Juleka dashed to comply, long purple-tinged black hair flying.

“Oh god! Ulp!”, Sabrina gagged.

“It’s okay, honey. Breathe”, Rose encouraged.

“I don’t! I don't! Aaaaaagh…” Sabrina moaned. Juleka was just barely in time.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. Let it out. Let it all out”, Rose crooned as Juleka assisted Sabrina, who sobbed and retched, kneeling on the floor. Rose encouraged Sabrina to rinse her mouth and drink some water when it was over. Juleka cleaned up.

“Better?, Rose asked. Sabrina nodded weakly. Rose helped Sabrina over to sit on the modern sectional couch, then sitting across from her in a matching arm chair.

“Honey, you need to set some boundaries and ground rules, and I mean now!”, Rose said.

“I can do that?”

Rose laughed out loud. “Oh, hell yes! Juleka, pet, tell Sabrina your limits.”

Juleka padded over, hands clasped behind her back. “No needles, no blood, don’t touch my hands in a scene, no breath play.”

“Thank you, pet. You may go.”

“Yes, Rose.”

Sabrina stared at Rose. “You have limits?”

“I don’t play with you, and I'm not going to, not for a very long time, so that’s not something you need to know”, Rose replied. “This isn’t about me. Now tell me what you know about the lifestyle.”

“Umm, just what I read on the internet before last Friday?”, Sabrina confessed.

“Goddamit”, Rose muttered, going to a bookshelf, selecting several volumes, then returned and handed them to Sabrina. “Homework. You don’t lay a finger on Chloé until you know what you’re doing, understand me?”

“Yes, Rose.”

The penny dropped for Rose. “I’m sorry, honey. I made a mistake. You’re not a Domme. You’re a switch!” 

“What?”

“You’re a bottom, a submissive, and a top, a Domme. No wonder you’re all over the place”, Rose explained. “You want to give, and you need to receive.” Rose sat down again.

“Time for a crash course in Lifestyle One-oh-One. Juleka, pet, please bring the party bag and present.”

Juleka wheeled over a rolling suitcase, knelt to open it, then stood, feet shoulder-width apart, released the cord belt and pulled the pins from the shoulders of her outfit, which promptly fell to the floor, exposing Juleka's nude form as she placed her hands behind her head. A bright blue, violet, and black cartoon unicorn head tattoo adorned the point of Juleka's left hip. 

“Isn’t it just too cute? Marinette designed it", Rose boasted. “I wear the ring, Juleka wears the unicorn. Now, back to the subject at hand.

“The Lifestyle is everything from casual impact play at clubs to devoted long-term exclusive relationships. You can have various kinds of stimulation, from impact play of various kinds, electro-play, denial, humiliation, knife-and-needle play, restraint play in a wide variety, roleplay, costumes, edge-play, water sports, consensual-non-consent…the list is almost open ended.

“Which is why you need boundaries, rules, and expectations. And safewords. God, you and Chloé are prime examples of needing a safeword!”, Rose exclaimed.

Sabrina raised her hand. “What’s a safeword?”

“It’s a word or signal you, either of you, use in a scene, and it means immediate stop, no argument, go to aftercare. Juleka, pet, what is your safeword?”

“Mirrormask, Rose.”

Rose smiled softly, looking down. “Because Juleka is a lifestyle sub, I’ve gotten phone calls or texts when she’s out with that one word. I drop whatever I'm doing and bring her home.” 

“Oh”, Sabrina said, understanding. 

“So, Sabrina, tell me three things you will do to Chloé.”

Sabrina blushed. 

“Tell me.”

“I like spanking her. But I don’t want to hurt her, not really”, Sabrina admitted. “And even though I screwed it up the first time, it was fun seeing her tied up. And…”

“And?” Rose raised an eyebrow.

“And I like telling her to behave! She’s such a brat!”

“Do you want to punish her when she acts out?”

“No! She needs discipline.” Light dawned on Sabrina. “She just needs…discipline.”

“I think you just found your Domme switch” Rose chuckled. “Now, what do you want from Chloé?”

“I…” Sabrina blushed. 

“Go on.”

“I want to serve her!”

“And?”

“I get so…ummm….”, Sabrina shivered. “She looks so happy when I help wash her in the shower. It makes me…” Sabrina blushed.

“Anything else?”

“I want her… to… like I did to her on Friday…”, Sabrina was shaking.

“I’d like to try something, with your permission, Sabrina.”

Sabrina nodded, almost frantic. 

Rose walked to Sabrina's left side, burying her right hand in bright red hair, close to the scalp, gripping, tugging. 

Sabrina let out a throaty moan. “Please!” 

“No. You don’t do anything until you tell Chloé your limits, the safeword, and what you expect in return. You don’t even touch yourself.” There was steel in Rose’s voice.

“Yes, Rose!”

Rose leaned to whisper in Sabrina’s ear. “I’m not your Domme. I’m not your Mistress. I’m your tutor, you’re my student. Nothing more. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ro—”, Sabrina felt the tug in her hair. “Yes, I understand.”

Rose released Sabrina. “Juleka, pet, please see our guest out. Make sure she gets a taxi. She’s in no shape to ride her scooter.”

“Yes, Rose.”


	6. Chapter 6

The bright turquoise vintage Vespa with the yellow stripe always delighted Sabrina Raincomprix when she rode it, reveled in the mobility and freedom it provided her, and the rush of the breeze of her passage left her feeling refreshed. It was cheap on gas, could carry a surprising amount of shopping on it's cargo racks when needed, and could be parked almost anywhere, usually for free.

Sabrina braked to a stop outside the university building her classes were in, flipped down the kickstand, and locked the security device to prevent her treasured scooter from being stolen. She removed her vintage helmet, using the strap over her forearm to carry the helmet in such a way to free her hands to carry her textbooks this morning. Her new smartphone buzzed and chimed in her skirt pocket at exactly the wrong moment. It would have to wait.

Chloé Bourgeois huffed in impatience as her friend slid into her seat next to the former mayor's daughter. “You’re late!”

Sabrina passed Chloé her ritual morning latte, prepared in precisely the way Chloé liked. Chloé ‘hmph'-ed, accepting the hot beverage without thanks, sipping it. “Ugh. They changed caramel syrups again. You drink it.” Sabrina passed the coffee off to the first caffeine-deprived student who dashed into class even later than she had been. 

“I prefer tea in the morning, Chloé.”

Class began. 

*-*-*

Chloé and Sabrina sat on the grass under a the shade of a tree, bright Paris sunshine flooding the common as they ate lunch. Chloé sniffed the sandwich Sabrina passed her, shrugged, and took a bite.

“You didn’t answer my texts this morning", Chloé accused Sabrina. 

Sabrina swallowed a bite of her own sandwich, washing it down with a sip of lemonade. “I was in traffic, and didn’t have time to check my messages once I got to school.”

“I told you to set your alarm earlier!”

“I don’t control when ‘He' releases an akuma, and I can’t do a thing about the traffic jams that result, can I?”, Sabrina whispered heatedly.

Chloé trembled. “God, I hate that asshole!”

Sabrina put a hand on Chloé’s knee. “Don’t. That’s how he gets you.” 

Chloé covered Sabrina's hand with her own. “I know.”

A moment passed, leaves rustling in the breeze.

“I though he was gone after he murdered Gabriel Agreste and his secretary”, Chloé said.

“They never did find the bodies.”

“Poor Adrian. First losing his mother, then his father is murdered”, Chloé sighed. “Then he gets engaged to DuPain. Tragedy really does strike in threes.”

Sabrina pulled her hand free. “Jealousy is beneath you, Chloé. Stop it.”

Chloé sulked. “It should have been me.”

“Well it wasn’t. Stop being a child.”

“Don’t you dare talk down to me!!”

“Chloé Bourgeois, if you do not behave this instant you will NOT get a spanking!!”, Sabrina hissed, looking about furtively. The lemonade lid clicked loudly in Sabrina’s hand as she pressed on it in annoyance. Chloé blinked, startled.

“Yes, Sabrina.”

Sabrina blinked. Something important had just happened.

Chloé cleared her throat. “As I was saying, I sent you a text. I talked Daddy into giving me the night off. We can have supper on the terrace, before…”  


Sabrina paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Then will you please go and buy a scooter helmet during your free period? Get something pretty. Because I’m not taking my scooter on the Metro again. Once was bad enough.”

Chloé grinned. “That was a disaster, wasn’t it?”

“I’ll see you after class", Sabrina said, tucking a strand of ginger hair behind her ear. 

*-*-*

Chloé strode out of the bedroom after showering and changing, affixing her gold hoop earring, Just in time to see Sabrina hang up the house phone. Paris shone gold, scarlet and sapphire in the late afternoon sun.

“Supper will be ready in an hour. I asked them to prepare your favorite”, Sabrina informed her.

“How thoughtful", Chloé purred, then paused. Sabrina was watching her, inspecting her. “Is there something wrong? Something in my teeth?”

“Shouldn’t you be dressed for dinner?”

Chloé glanced down at her leggings and low-cut top. “I am.”

Sabrina sighed, annoyed. “Go and change. I’ll start tidying up.”

“You don’t need to do that", Chloé protested.

Sabrina picked up the beer bottle that had been abandoned a week ago. “You obviously aren’t doing it, so I might as well. Go get dressed.”

“Yes, Sabrina.”

Chloé returned a few minutes later. “Better?”

Sabrina nodded approval at the strapless black cocktail dress Chloé wore. “Much. You look respectable.”

Chloé blushed.

Sabrina continued tidying, scrubbing dishes abandoned by the sink.

“Are you mad at me?”, Chloé asked quietly.

“No.” Sabrina turned off the water, letting the sink drain. “We need to talk.”

The color drained from Chloé’s face. “You're…dumping me?”

Sabrina kissed Chloé on the cheek as the door buzzed, announcing the arrival of their food. “No. Don’t be silly. Go and sit at the table.” Chloé complied, confused, worried. Sabrina wheeled in the serving cart and placed the meals on the table, poured two glasses of white wine, then placed the cart by the door.

Chloé picked at her food.

“I know you were expecting us to play tonight, Chloé, but nothing is going to happen until we agree to some ground rules.”

Chloé drew a shaky breath. “Okay.”

Sabrina took a sip of wine to calm her nerves.

“One: We are both very new to this. And we made some dreadful mistakes.

“Two: We are both going to use a safeword. It’s going to be the same word for both of us. If either of us use it, no matter the reason, we are done for the night, and it’s aftercare time, no argument, no dispute. The safeword is ‘Papillion'.

“Three: What I do to you is not, will never be punishment. It's discipline, something you’re sorely lacking. I will refuse to actually injure you. If you push me, I will declare the night over and leave.

“Four: I’m tired of you being an unreasonable, spoilt bitch. I’ll be watching you, and if you're cruel or rude to other people for no reason, you’ll be disciplined. I’ve decided to use a clicker to remind you to behave. If you hear it, that’s a set of marks on your ass.

“Five: I’m a switch. I’ll Domme you because you need it, but I have needs and desires too. You’ll be considerate of my needs in the same way I'm considerate of yours.

“Six: When I’m not here, you will keep a tidy house.

“Seven: We will never again be put in a situation like the other day in the bathroom at school. That was humiliating.

“Eight: Some day, we might go to a public play party. We'll discuss revisions to the rules then, not before.

“Nine: Do not shave your pubic mound bare. I’m not playing with a child and the mere idea is repellant. Neatly trimmed is fine.

“Ten: We're in this together. Which means these rules can be amended or adjusted at any time, but only after we discuss the reason for the rule needing to be changed.

“Eleven: I don’t know who you played with or slept with in the past, and I don’t care. But as of right now, no play of any kind until we both get clean blood tests. And as of right now, we are exclusive until I know whoever you might be infatuated with is clean.

“Twelve: I have some hand signals in mind we will use in public to communicate our needs to each other. We'll talk them over later.

“If you can’t agree to these very reasonable rules, I’ll say thank you for a nice meal and depart, and we will NEVER engage in this behavior again. Say ‘Yes, Sabrina' if you understand and agree to these rules."

Sabrina was breathing fast. Chloé wouldn’t meet her eyes. Had she gone too far?

“Yes, Sabrina.” So quiet she’d almost missed it.

“Speak up, please.”

“Yes, Sabrina!”

The sun was setting, the sky a riot of red, cream, orange and gold.


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday morning, overcast light filtered into the bedroom.

A long night of broken sleep and bad dreams left Chloé feeling cranky. Unrelieved sexual frustration certainly didn’t help. Unresolved tension between herself and Sabrina from last night had teamed up with the lack of sleep and frustration to trigger a phenomenal headache.

And now because of those stupid rules she had agreed to she couldn’t even pick-up a quickie. Not that any man she took to bed had ever been more than a two minute wonder, and the only one who lasted longer had been insufferable because of his pride at having slept with Queen Bee. 

The bed felt empty.

She felt empty.

Chloé picked up her phone, checked the time, and scrolled through her contacts, selected one and activated the phone.

“Doctor Lancet's office. Chloé Bourgeois. I’d like a complete STD blood panel done. No, I don’t think I've been exposed, but it pays to be cautious these days. Today, if you have an opening. Three-fifteen? Thank you.”

Five hours.

Chloé showered, dressed in her signature yellow and white, brushed out her hair and tied it back, then applied her make-up. And stood there, staring at the mirror.

Who was she doing this for?

The apartment door closed behind her. An empty elevator ride led out to the street. Threatened rain started to fall, and Ivan handed her an umbrella as she stepped out.

“Merci.”

“Enjoy your day, Miss Bourgeois.” Formal. Distant.

A flick of her wrist and the black courtesy umbrella blossomed above Chloé. 

Late afternoon. The skies had darkened all day, and car headlights shone reflected gold in the blue shadows. Chloé idly stirred her ordered coffee, staring out the café window without seeing, chin propped on her other hand. A coin-sized band-aid covered the miniscule puncture in the crook of her arm. 

Retrieving her smartphone, she sent a text.

*Two weeks*

Her phone buzz-pinged.

*Same*

Chloé tapped out another text.

*Miss you*

Buzz-ping.

*Me too*

Chloé smiled. More tapping.

*Movie tonight?*

Buzz-ping.

*Too tempting. Patience. Friday*

Chloé put the phone away, and left the café, coffee untouched.

*-*-*

Monday. Chloé found the day tedious and dull. Her morning latté never arrived. Neither did Sabrina.

It was second period when her phone vibrated and pinged in her back pocket, and Chloé glowed with a secret smile.

*Home sick. Please bring notes*

That evening, Chloé had the notes and chicken noodle soup delivered.

*-*-*

It was Thursday before Sabrina reappeared in class, looking like a kitten could knock her over, cardboard drinks tray with two cups on it in hand.  


“Where were you?!”, Chloé demanded with a frown.

Sabrina handed over the morning ritual latté. “In bed with the flu.”

Someone bumped Chloé, and her coffee slopped, liquid staining her tight white leggings. “Clumsy oaf! I should have you horse-whipped!!”, she barked.

**CLICK!** 

Chloé stiffened, turning to face Sabrina, stunned. An expensive metal biro, turquoise in color, was gripped in Sabrina's hand.

“I told you I’d be watching you, Chloé.”

Chloé shivered, feeling a warm, slightly damp anticipation. “Yes, Sabrina.”

*-*-*

Friday was an agonizing eternity only made better by the prospect of the coming evening after her shift behind the front desk was over. Sabrina had caught her eye between classes and used a sign they had agreed on that meant playtime, two fingers in a ‘vee' held as half a mask around the right eye. Chloé quickly texted a message.

*It’s only been a week.  
Now who’s impatient?*

Buzz-ping.

*You’ll just have to wait and see*

Chloé replied, fingers dancing.

*I hate waiting!*

Buzz-ping.

*Tough*

Chloé growled in frustration.

*-*-*

The Vespa slipped and dodged through Paris traffic, tiny engine singing. Chloé clung white-knuckled to Sabrina's waist, closing her eyes with every lane change.

“Slow down, slow down, slow down!", Chloé pleaded into Sabrina's shoulder.

Sabrina laughed and twisted the throttle. The scooter leapt like it had been kicked. Ten minutes later, Sabrina pulled up outside Le Grand Paris, and Chloé dismounted.

“I’ll see you after your shift.”

“What are you planning, Sabrina?”

“You’ll see.”

Chloé stomped into the hotel. “What?!”, she barked at Ivan, as he opened the door for her.

A distinct -clicķ!- was heard as the door swung shut.

*-*-*

Hot water ran down Chloé’s body, soothing the aches standing for six hours behind the front desk created, making the golden tint of her skin shine like it was polished. The soap in her hands glided over her breasts and belly, slid the length of her arms and legs, and caressed the globes of her ass. Chloé shivered at the pleasurable memory of Sabrina kissing her after their last play session. Eye closed, Chloé revelled.

A chill draft swirled around Chloé, and a cool touch on her shoulder startled Chloé out of her reverie.

“Stop leaving your door unlocked”, Sabrina whispered, plucking the soap out of her friend’s hand, applying it in gentle sweeping curves to Chloé’s back. Soapy hands caressed and teased her ass, gliding up to cup and gently squeeze her full breasts, tweaking pink nipples into aching stiffness.

Chloé turned in the slick embrace. “That’s not fair. I’m not ready yet.”

Sabrina's hand slid down Chloe's belly, fingers combing through the neatly groomed patch of blond hair to caress her swollen and sensitive vulva. “I beg to differ.”

Chloé whimpered, nibbling and kissing Sabrina while the slim red-head gently slid her fingers along the lips of Chloé’s pussy, teasingly, just barely inserting a finger before rubbing Chloé’s sensitive clitoris, then repeating the motion slowly, over and over.

Chloé’s legs started to shake, her kisses demanding, hungry, fingernails raking Sabrina's back.

“I’m so close!”, Chloé moaned, and Sabrina's fingers trailed back up her belly, leaving Chloé aching and frustrated.

“Good. It’s time to get out and dry off.”

“Yes, Sabrina!”

The velvet soft terry-cloth left Chloé more aroused than she had been, ready to demand Sabrina to hurry up with her plans when her playmate walked back into the bedroom carrying a dining chair.

“Sit", Sabrina quietly instructed Chloé. “You will not interfere, you will not touch me, or yourself. You will watch and say nothing. Do you understand?”

Chloé whimpered but complied. “Yes, Sabrina.” 

Sabrina moved naked to Chloé’s closet and chest of drawers, carefully selecting specific items of clothing: A white silk button-down blouse, a violet bra, a pair of black satin panties, lacy black garter belt and sheer black silk stockings.

Chloé watched, fascinated, outraged. Aroused.

Sabrina used her phone to play romantic saxophone music, sat on the bed, pulling on the silk stockings, stood, made a slow half-pirouette to show her pert round bottom, then clipped on the garter belt and fastened it to the stockings. Then the black satin panties, drawn slowly up Sabrina’s legs until her ginger-haired sex was concealed. Another half-turn, the straps on the bra were adjusted, then Sabrina put it on, her breasts revealed with enticing cleavage. Silk whispered on skin, enticingly concealing the slim red-head. 

“You like?”

Chloé swallowed in a dry throat, nodding mutely. She should have been livid that Sabrina had invaded her privacy. Instead the blood thundered in her ears as her one-time class-mate started to dance suggestively to the music, using the blouse to conceal and reveal her curves, a flash of breast, exposing her waist, green eyes gazing over her white shoulder…

“More?”

Chloé nodded jerkily, fingers clenching repeatedly, desperately want to touch and be touched, belly tensing, legs trembling.

Sabrina sat on the corner of the bed, shirt open, slowly stroking her pussy through the panties, gently raking her satin-clad mound. Chloé licked her lips, staring as Sabrina hooked a finger under the panties, drawing aside the crotch to expose herself.

Chloé whined greedily, watching as Sabrina slowly inserted a finger into herself, letting out a small gasp, her hips twitching. It glistened when she slid it out.

“Look how naughty you make me", Sabrina teased, slowly fingering herself, leaning back slightly, supporting herself with her other arm. She stood, sliding the panties off, tossing them in Chloé’s lap, then leaned back, legs spread wide, rubbing her pussy, spreading her lips open to Chloé, circling her aching clitoris.

“Should I come while you watch me? Be a shameless little whore for you?”, Sabrina panted, frantically teasing herself. “Make a mess of your pretty clothes?”

Chloé clamped her arms across her belly, gripping her elbows, squeezing her breasts together. Her blue eyes screamed her need.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! So close, so close!”, Sabrina panted, moaning, eyes closed, then staring at Chloé. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna! Aaaa-AAAAAAH!”, Sabrina shrieked, legs clamping shut on her hand, shaking hard in release.

“Please, Sabrina!!”, Chloé screamed.

“Yes, baby! Show me!”

Chloé fell off the chair onto her knees, thrusting two fingers wetly into herself, tugging on her nipples, squeezing her breast, whimpering, her arousal dribbling down her thighs. Panting, babbling, moaning, Chloe burst, screaming, her orgasm pounding her to the carpeted floor, hips in the air, bucking, fingers still thrusting in a spasm, her other hand clawing at the carpet. She collapsed, breathing hard and fast.

*-*-*

Chloé and Sabrina sat on the couch, wrapped in long-ago pilfered hotel bathrobes after a second shower, sipping tea.

“I’m sleeping in that shirt”, Chloé smiled.

“You don’t mind?”

Chloé shook her head. “Worth the price of the show”, she grinned. “It’s always the quiet ones that surprise you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Major 'Miraculous Ladybug' spoilers contained within. Proceed at your own peril. 
> 
> Song lyrics remain property of original author.

Chloé sprawled on her red-upholstered sectional couch, wine glass dangling at a perilous angle from her hand as she stared out at the afternoon Paris skyline, the roof of Collége François DuPont just visible beyond the rim of her patio.

Distantly, she heard the door of her apartment open and close, heard someone approach.

“You weren’t in class, and nobody heard from you", Sabrina said. “What’s going on?”

“What do you care?”, Chloé mumbled. “How'd you get in?”

“Jean, as always. And you left your door unlocked again.” Sabrina knelt down, looking her friend over. “Oh my god! Chloé, you’re drunk!!”

“So?! Not like it matters", Chloé scoffed.

“It matters to me.”

Chloé drained her glass, struggling to sit up, groping for the bottle at her feet. “Not for mush…Much! Longer”, she enunciated. 

“Tell me what’s going on!”, Sabrina demanded. Chloé held up an envelope. 

“Test results.”

“So?”

“You’re going to see what a slut I am, so I might as well get loaded before you walk out on me", Chloé smiled nastily. “Just like everybody else. You’ll hate me, like everyone else hates me, and you'll leave! Go on! Get out! I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone!”

Sabrina plucked the wine bottle out of Chloé’s hand. “You’ve had enough.”

“S’mine!! Gimme!!”

“No!”, Sabrina exclaimed. “Why are you trying so hard to push me away?”

Chloé threw her wine glass at Sabrina, to shatter on the window that cracked under the impact. 

“Everyone leaves! They always do!”, Chloé screamed. “I’m stupid, and useless, and I'm nobody special. That’s why Mommy left!”

Sabrina blinked. “You’re not stupid. And you're not useless.” She took a deep breath. “And your mother was a gold-plated cast iron bitch.”

Chloé slapped her, knocking Sabrina’s glasses off.

Sabrina slapped her right back.

“Don’t you talk about Mommy like that! You don’t know what it’s like!”, Chloé howled, rubbing her cheek. “You hate me!”

Sabrina rubbed her own cheek. “I do know, Chloé. I know exactly how you feel.”

“No you don’t!!”, Chloé accused.

Sabrina sighed, looking into hurt blue eyes. “At least your mother is still alive. Mine…isn’t.”

Chloé covered her mouth with both hands in shock. “I didn’t know!”

Sabrina shrugged, feeling around for her glasses, found them, put them on. “I never told you.”

“God, you must hate me.”

Sabrina slipped her arms around Chloé, gently kissing her forehead. “No, never.”

Chloé whimpered, folding in on herself in Sabrina’s arms.

“Why?”

“Because I love you. I think I always have. I always will.”

“Bu…but I joined…Him! I be-be-betrayed Ladybug!”, Chloé snivelled. “I-I-I tri-tried to kill huh-her and Chat!!”

“Well, you didn’t. And that was ages ago. They beat him and he ran and hid.” Sabrina rocked Chloé, stroking her hair. “Hawk Moth used you. He exploited you.”

“It’s be-be-be-because I-I'm wi-wicked a-and ho-horrible to everyone!” Chloé sobbed, shaking.

“No, baby, you’re not wicked”, Sabrina consoled her. “You’re broken. You can get better. I believe in you.”

“Why?!” Anguish.

Gentle kisses. “Because deep down, you’re a good person. I’ve seen it. Jean has seen it.”

“Buh-buh-but I'm mean to you!”

“I’ve seen you at your very worst, Chloé. And I still love you, because I know you’re a good person. You just need to heal."

Chloé gulped, teary eyed. “I don’t feel so good…”, she sniffled.

“Let’s put you to bed.”

Someone knocked insistently on the apartment door. Sabrina opened it to find the Bourgeois family butler, Jean, standing there, with Sabrina's father. In uniform.

“Sabrina?” Her father was taken aback, and she used the opportunity to step into the plushly carpeted hallway. “Is everything alright? There was a noise complaint from downstairs.”

“Yes, daddy. I’m fine. Chloé is just upset.”

Officer Roger Raincomprix stared at his daughter. “You’re not opening that door, are you?”

Challenge narrowed Sabrina's eyes. “Get a warrant.”

Behind Officer Raincomprix, Jean smiled.

“Goodnight, daddy.”

Roger patted his daughter on the shoulder. “Be safe.”

Sabrina kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight, daddy.”

*-*-*

Sounds from the kitchenette woke Chloé. Wrapped in her white silk button-down shirt, she shuffled out into the morning to see Sabrina, wearing nothing but a bib apron, tending something in a pan on the cooktop.

Sabrina felt arms wrap around her from behind, warm breasts press into the cool skin of her back, Chloé settling her cheek on Sabrina's right shoulder.

“I didn’t know there was food in the cupboards”, Chloé said softly.

“Jean had it delivered earlier.”

“Oh.” Chloé didn’t release her.

“I’m making an omelette. Hungry?”

“Ugh. No. Thank you”, Chloé mumbled through a faint ripple of nausea. “Maybe some tea and toast?” 

“Already on the table”, Sabrina pointed out.

Chloé held on. “Why do you put up with me?”

Sabrina transferred the omelette to a waiting plate with a practiced ease, then kissed the top of Chloé’s head. “I love you. Go sit, I’ll be right there, ma reine.”

Chloé shuffled to the table while Sabrina turned off the cooktop and removed the apron.

Halfway through her second piece of toast, Chloé cleared her throat. “It’s very distracting eating breakfast with you while your naked”, she observed, staring at Sabrina’s prominent nipples.

“Can’t be helped. My clothes are being cleaned.”

A moment passed in silence.

“I’m sorry about last night”, Chloé ventured.

“Did you read your test results?”

Chloé blushed. “No", she confessed.

Sabrina sighed and retrieved the envelope, opened it, and read the single page, eyes darting side to side. “Same as mine. Clean. Honestly, Chloé”, Sabrina lowered the page.

Embarrassed, Chloé looked around, noticing several empty wine and liquor bottles standing next to the sink.

“Gone", Sabrina announced, forking a bite of omelette into her mouth. “Down the drain.” 

“All of it?!”

Cutlery tapped on the tabletop. “You have a problem, Chloé.”

Chloé slumped. “You’re right.”

“Deal with it. Get help.”

“Why are you being so mean?!”, Chloé whined.

Sabrina slapped her utensils to the table. “Because I love you! And I don’t want to watch you kill yourself! Get. Some. Help!” She was breathing fast, upset. “Please.”

Chloé nodded. “Okay. For you.”

“No! Not for me! Do it for you!”, Sabrina said fiercely. “I can’t keep this up, being strong, not all the time! I need you to be better so I can love you the way I need to, serving you!”

Chloé sat back, astonished. “I thought you did it because…”

“Because I was a meek little pushover? Chloé, I did it because you needed someone to need you, and I need to be needed! We are both seriously fucked up!” Sabrina stalked to the kitchenette, plate in hand, throwing it clattering into the sink. She gripped the edge of the countertop, breathing hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s not your fault, not really.”

Sabrina turned to see Chloé sitting at the table, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Chloé sniffled, wiping away a tear. “No, you’re right. I’m a bitch all the time because I wanted to be like Mother.”

Sabrina moved to hold Chloé, stroking her blonde hair. “You’re so much better than her”, Sabrina said quietly.

Chloé gazed up at her friend. “You’re not just saying that?” Childlike desperation for approval.

Sabrina kissed Chloé on her forehead. “You’re a mess, baby. But you’re my mess.”

“Your boobs are in my face.”

“Deal with it. Ahhh!”, Sabrina gasped, eyes closed in pleasure as Chloé started to kiss and suckle on her right nipple.

“I do need you, Sabrina.”

Sabrina pulled Chloé to her feet, retrieved her phone, tapped it, and music started to play. Sabrina wrapped her arms around Chloé, leading her into a slow, gentle, rocking dance step, crooning along with the tune:

“If you’ll wait for me,  
Then I'll come for you,  
Although I’ve travelled far,  
I always hold a place for you in my heart…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End?
> 
> Not on your life!!


	9. Chapter 9

Chloé gazed into Sabrina's eyes as they danced in the early morning light, each wrapping the other in her embrace, sapphire entranced by emerald. Sabrina lifted her chin slightly, lips parted with suggestion, desire shining in her expression, inviting Chloé to kiss her without saying a word.

Their lips met, tender, hungry, demanding, yielding, a shy tongue darting, testing, tasting. Little nibbles, gentle biting of the lower lip, breath shared. Hands explored, stroked, caressed. Teased, fingernails trailing, touching, exploring.

Without a word, Chloé led Sabrina to the bedroom, laid her unresisting on the wide bed, and lay down beside her.

Sabrina stroked Chloé’s cheek. “I knew, I always knew it would be you. I just had to admit it to myself”, she whispered.

Chloé chuckled. “It would be me what?”, she replied softly, gazing in appreciation at the red-head. 

“That you would be my one, my first.”

Chloé giggled. “Ohmigod! You're…? Never?” Delight. Astonishment.

Sabrina nodded shyly, moving Chloé’s slowly caressing hand up to squeeze her breast.

“My heart’s beating for you, ma reine. You can feel it.”

“Mon chaton.” Chloé's kiss was insistent, demanding, hand kneading Sabrina’s soft breast, making her moan softly. Chloé kissed along Sabrina’s jaw, breath hot in her ear, then kissing down her throat, between the satiny mounds of Sabrina's breasts, down her belly, fingers raking down Sabrina's ribs, over hips, descending her thighs as Chloé slid lower, almost off the bed.

Sabrina’s legs parted, spreading wide, inviting ravishment. Chloé’s hot breath fanning her ginger pubic hair, hands moving up, wrapping from below to grip Sabrina.

Chloé was drunk with sensation, intoxicated by desire, ravenous for experience. A long, languid teasing stroke of Chloé's tongue, from the bottom of Sabrina’s cleft to her achingly stiff clitoris was enough to make Sabrina buck wildly, moaning, head back, thrashing from side to side, one hand clutching the tangled bedclothes, the other gripping Chloé’s blonde hair, her eyes wild with confusion and wanton lust.

Chloé reached, spreading Sabrina open, licking, sucking, tongue delving deep then circling a stiff and sensitive nub, gently biting Sabrina’s folds, tugging on her petal-like labia. Consuming her. 

Sabrina’s belly rippled, hands squeezing her breasts, tugging her nipples, tangling Chloé's hair. She panted, moaned, gasped, whined, begged, rising, scrambling up a peak that blinded her.

“More! More, more, more, more, more!”, Sabrina demanded. “Oh! Yes! Hah! Like that! Don't stop! No! Don't stop! More, so close, baby! So close! Please!!” A deep, shuddering breath, and Sabrina achieved her release, biting her hand to prevent herself from screaming. Stars danced in her vision, blood roaring in her ears. She exploded, bucking, shuddering, eyes rolling back, lost.

Sabrina lay there, legs limp, belly aching, hands slowly flailing, giggling softly in a post-orgasmic endorphin haze.

“Wow!”, Chloé breathed.

“I’m sorry", Sabrina giggled, rolling on her side, shivering in an aftershock. “The number you have dialed was just fucked silly…” 

Chloé climbed onto the bed beside her lover, gazing down at lust-clouded green eyes. “Hi.”

“Yup!”, Sabrina agreed.

“More? Or are you done?”

“As soon as I find my legs, I’m good for round twooooo…”, Sabrina grinned. “God, I love you!”

Chloé kissed Sabrina's forehead. “I’ll get you some water.” Chloé rose from the bed and returned a moment later with a tumbler of cold water to find Sabrina lying on the bed, legs spread in invitation, slowly, gently fingering herself.

“I want you.”

“Huh?”, Chloé said intelligently.

“Inside me. I want to feel you take me, spread me open.”

The tumbler fell to the carpet, forgotten, it’s contents soaking the carpet. Chloé swallowed hard. “Oh my.”

“Please? Ma reine, my queen? Please?”

Chloé dove onto the bed, smothering Sabrina with kisses, pinching her nipples, gently tugging, fingers combing ginger pubic hair, gently probing, seeking entry, penetrating…

“Ouch!”, Sabrina twitched in pained surprise.

“What’s wrong?! Did I hurt you?!”, Chloé was alarmed, pulling her fingers free.

“Your fingernails are sharp.”

Chloé glanced at her manicure. ‘Well, that’s got to fucking go…’, some remote function of her brain decided.

“Do you trust me?”, Chloé asked, eyes searching Sabrina’s face.

“With my life, ma reine.”

Chloé fumbled in the drawer of her bedside table, withdrawing an inexpensive gold-toned jelly vibrator purchased surreptitiously years ago that had been her entertainment on too many dateless nights to count, and a bottle of personal lubricant, then darting to the bathroom to wash and rinse the toy, return to the bed in a bound.

Sabrina watched as Chloé generously applied lubricant to the vibrator, then gently parting Sabrina's pussy lips and doing the same.

“Ooooh, cold!”, Sabrina shivered in anticipation.

“Move down on the bed”, Chloé suggested. Curious, Sabrina did so, and Chloé straddled her face, leaning her torso over Sabrina's, and gently inserted the tip of the dildo, barely penetrating. Sabrina reached around Chloé’s thighs, her breath warm against Chloé’s pussy.

“Let me know if it’s uncomfortable”, Chloé husked, a slowly slid the toy slightly deeper.

“Uuunnnh, more!”, Sabrina groaned, petting Chloé’s ass.

Chloé slid the dildo back and forth, withdrawing it to slide along Sabrina's pussy lips before plunging back in, slowly probing deeper, exploring Sabrina's limits.

A demanding whine rose from Sabrina. “More! Please!”

“Return the favor. Lick my—Ah! Yes!”, Chloé gasped as Sabrina applied her tongue and lips enthusiastically, inspiring Chloé to increase the speed of her strokes, watching for the first signs of a building orgasm.

Sabrina was getting frantic, nipping almost painfully on Chloé’s sensitive labia, tongue darting, tasting.

Chloé activated the vibrator when it was deep inside Sabrina, feeling the sudden intake of breath, Chloé angling the tip to stimulate Sabrina’s g-spot. Sabrina’s second orgasm of the morning was more impressive, and vocal, than her first. Chloé lashed her tongue on Sabrina's hypersensitive clit, eliciting a howl of unadulterated lust from her lover as she screamed and flooded the bedding with her release.

“Oh my god, Sabrina! You squirt! You lucky little bitch!”, Chloé laughed in delight, rolling free, twisting around to kiss her lover.

"Says…(pant)…you…(pant pant). Your…ass (ohmigod)…isn’t in…(pant)…a puddle”, Sabrina giggled, then moaned. “Oh god, I think I pulled something.” She rolled on her side, fingers trailing on Chloé’s skin.

“Thank you.”

Chloé kissed her red-headed vixen. “You’re very welcome.”

Sabrina looked flushed. Blotchy.

“Chloé? I itch.” Sabrina rubbed at her privates, scratching. 

“What?!”

“It’s burning. Ah! Is that normal?” Sabrina sounded panicky, gasping for breath. A rash started to bloom on her neck. 

“Oh shit!” Chloé fumbled for her phone, dialing ‘112', the emergency number. “Hello? Yes? I need a SAMU unit to Apartment Two, Le Grand Paris Hotel. My girlfriend is having trouble breathing! Please hurry!!”

Chloé threw aside her phone, scrambling into jogging pants and a hoodie, reassuring Sabrina help was coming, then picked up the house extension to order Jean to send the SAMU crew to her apartment as soon as they arrived.

Ten minutes later her bedroom was a scene of controlled chaos, answering the SAMU doctor's questions, watching in horror as poor Sabrina was stabbed in the thigh with an epi-pen, then loaded quickly and efficiently naked onto a stretcher, Chloé running barefoot beside her to the SAMU van, watching from the crash seat while the ambulance screamed through the streets to the hospital.

Doors banging, a flash of overhead light, Chloé firmly pushed out of the way as Sabrina underwent blood draws, insertion of IV lines, another measured injection of epinephrine, and oxygen started for her.

Somewhere, someone had provided slippers for Chloé’s bare feet. She sat, exhausted and enervated on a bench outside the treatment area, blonde hair disheveled, forlorn.

A nurse sat beside Chloé, pulling her mask down. “Good job. Your fast thinking saved your girlfriend.”

Chloé turned her head, staring at the nurse with haunted eyes. “What did I do?”

“You saved her. Anaphylactic shock from latex exposure. We got her in time thanks to you. She’s going to be an itchy girl for a few days, so no sex.” The nurse stood up. “You can see her now.”

Sabrina lay in the hospital bed, IV lines running into her arms, oxygen tube under her delicate nose, heart monitor leads stuck to naked pale skin, red hair limp with perspiration, eyes closed. 

Chloé slumped in a hospital chair, leaning over the bed on crossed arms, holding Sabrina's hand. “Please don’t leave me. Not like this. I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry”, Chloé said quietly. “I’m sorry for every rotten thing I did to you. To everyone. Just please…don’t leave me.” The heart monitor beeped quietly in the background as Chloé wept silently, eyes closed, shoulders shaking. 

Weak, hesitant fingers stroked Chloé’s hair. Shocked, Chloé gasped Sabrina's hand again, kissing her fingers gently, gratefully. “Hi", Sabrina whispered, voice husky. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a latex allergy?”, Chloé demanded, red eyed.

“Didn’t know.” A pause. “Virgin, remember?” A weak chuckle.

Chloé stared into Sabrina’s green eyes. “I’m… I…”

“It’s okay.”

“Stay with me? Always?”

A quiet laugh. “Your proposal needs work. But I accept.” Sabrina sighed. “I’m tired, baby.”

Chloé squeezed Sabrina's hand. “You rest. I’m not going anywhere.”


	10. Chapter 10

Chloé’s father was waiting for her when she got back to the Hotel, confronting her in the white marble tile floored lobby.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done, the shadow you’ve cast on Le Grand Paris, the scandal you’ve caused?”, former mayor André Bourgeois demanded hotly, scurrying beside her as Chloé strode to the elevator.

“I’m not in the mood, Daddy. Not now.” 

André missed the warning tone in his daughter's voice. “Your reckless and impetuous behavior is getting out of hand! Think of what your mother would say if she saw you carrying on like a common Paris harlot with that pedestrian girl! Half our clientele saw that hussy wheeled out of the Hotel on a stretcher! The press will have a field day!"

Chloé spun abruptly on her father, breathing hard. “Don’t you dare say another word about Sabrina! And Mother dumped you after you lost the election! She’s been fucking her way through the poolboy gigolos of the Cote d'Azur and the Mediterranean ever since!”

“Chloé! Language!”

The elevator doors chimed open. “Hypocrite!”, Chloé growled, viciously stabbing the button to close the elevator doors in her father’s face.

Chloé tossed aside her fear sweat stinking clothes, then scrubbed herself raw in a rushed shower, pulled on underwear, old jeans, going braless under a university t-shirt worn under a black hoodie with a yellow stripe over the chest, tugged a brush through her blonde hair, then pocketed her phone and a small wallet, and tucked the offending dildo in the kangaroo pouch. She picked up the house phone.

“Front desk. Chloé. Tell Ivan to stop the first taxi he sees. Yes, even if someone is in it. I’ll pay him five hundred Euros if he has it waiting by the time I’m in the lobby.”

Chloé stormed out over apartment, right past her father who attempted to detain her.

“Chloé…” André Bourgeois began.

“Save it!”, Chloé snarled. 

Ivan had a taxi at the curb, door open, a businessman sputtering outrage on the sidewalk.

Ivan saw the cloud on Chloé’s face. “Jean on standby with bail money?”, he quipped. 

Chloé stared at him for a cold second. “Good idea. Your bonus just became a thousand Euros.” To the businessman she offered a raised middle finger as she sped away.

*-*-*

In a hidden lair, somewhere in Paris, Hawk Moth felt a surge of pure, unadulterated outrage surge through him, familiar, perfect.  
“Ah, my oldest, most reliable pawn. You offer yourself too willingly to my darling akuma. Fly to her, grant her desire for vengeance, and bring me the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

*-*-*

The cabbie looked at Chloé uncertainty. “Are you sure this is the right address, Miss Bourgeois?”

Chloé nodded. “Keep the meter running. I won’t be long.”

The sales clerk behind the counter in the seedy sex-shop in an outer arrondissement of Paris couldn't have been more surprised when the grimy door of the questionable establishment was thrown open to crash against the wall, admitting blonde heiress Chloé Bourgeois in high dudgeon, a look of calculating fury in her eye.

Chloé stalked across the filthy carpet stained with god-knows-what, and slammed the offending sex toy onto the counter.

“Your toxic piece of shit almost killed my girlfriend, you insufferable little creep! Why aren’t your products labeled with allergy warnings?!”, Chloé all but screamed.

“Look, lady, I’m sorry. I just sell them…”, he equivocated desperately.

“I’m going to sue you! I’ll sue your suppliers! I’ll own you and your shitty little shop!”

The aubergine-hued emotional predator fluttered unseen through the open door, intent on its victim…

Chloé caught the fluttering movement as it attempted to alight on her and she flinched, avoiding the akuma's touch like it carried the plague. With a cry of revulsion she swatted it with an explicit sex magazine from a pile on the counter, knocking it to the melamine surface, then grabbed the first large object at hand, slamming it onto the offending insectoid menace with all of her dancer-trained strength.

WHAM!!

Pause.

WHAM!! WHAM!! WHAM!!

Pause. Chloé thought she saw it twitch.

WHAM!! WHAM!! WHAM!!

“FUCKING DIE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!”, Chloé screamed, snatching the clerk's steaming coffee out of their hand and pouring it on the smashed and broken akuma. Then hit the tiny terror one more time, hard, for good measure. It was definitely dead.

Chloé panted, giddy with relief. She was safe. He could never touch her again. She looked down at the object in her hand.

A massive dildo, easily as long and thick as her forearm.

She held it triumphantly, grinning like she’d just won the Palme D'Or at Cannes.

“How much?”


	11. Chapter 11

Platform 7 of Paris Nord was congested with travelers waiting to board the high-speed Thalys train to Amsterdam. Blonde, stylish Chloé Bourgeois, dressed in a charcoal grey suit and canary pullover was trailed by her longtime friend become lover, ginger-haired and bespectacled Sabrina Raincomprix in a teal skirt and violet silk blouse, who struggled with two unwieldy wheeled suitcases.

“Hurry up!”, Chloé demanded. “I want to get a good seat.”

Sabrina smiled, trotting behind the socialite. “Dibs on the window!”

Luggage was handed off to porters, and Chloé and Sabrina found their carriage, settling into their Premium Class seats, Sabrina claiming the one next to the window, Chloé smiling indulgently. In three and a half hours, they would be in Amsterdam. Chloé sighed, relaxing for the first time in days.

“How’s your leg?”, Chloé inquired quietly.

“A little sore. I do not suggest making a habit of getting jabbed with an epi-pen”, Sabrina frowned slightly. 

Chloé squeezed her hand sympathetically. “A little getaway is just what the doctor ordered.”

Sabrina grinned at her lover. “A romantic liaison away from nosey father’s.” 

“In the best room in the Hotel Pulitzer", Chloé agreed, nodding to touch foreheads before kissing Sabrina. “They have the most marvelous beds.”

“I can’t wait", Sabrina whispered. 

Chloé smiled primly, ticking off the intinerary. “Check in, shower, some shopping, dinner, sex, maybe a drink? Then bed. That’s day one.”

“I have a better idea", Sabrina offered. “Check in, sex, shower, sex, another shower, shopping, sex, room service, sex, and more sex until we fall asleep.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”, Chloé giggled.

“I’m making up for lost time.”

A chime sounded, and the high-speed train started on it's way with a gentle lurch.

An hour later, over a light meal, Chloé turned to Sabrina. “I’m thinking about school. Rather, why I’m there, what I’m doing. Daddy and I had a dreadful fight just before you got out of hospital. He’s convinced I’m throwing my life away.”

Sabrina squeezed Chloé’s hand. “He’s also a dreadful prude.”

Chloé nodded. “What if he’s right? Not about you, about us. About wasting my life?”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know”, Chloé confessed. “I thought I wanted to be famous. I thought being rich was enough.”

Sabrina nudged Chloé, smiling. “You made the news. Not everyone gets caught on camera beating an akuma to death with a novelty sex toy.”

“Daddy was scandalized!”, Chloé laughed, then sobered. “I thought I wanted to marry Adrian.”

“You were in love with the idea of Adrian”, Sabrina observed. “You turned Le Chien Kim down flat. And your, what, three flings? One night stands. Baby, boys and you don’t mix.”

Chloé sat in silence for a moment. “God, you’re right", she groaned, eyes closed. “I’m happy with you, happy around you. You ground me.”

“I spank you.”

“That too.”

The green countryside passed in a three-hundred-kilometre-an-hour blur.

“I’m think I’m going to drop out”, Chloé announced. “Not forever", she hastily amended at Sabrina’s alarmed expression. “I should switch majors, go for business administration.”

“Chloé, you have your scheming face on. Spill.”

“I’m going to take over the hotel. Whether Daddy likes it or not.”

Sabrina pulled Chloé into a fierce kiss. “Good!”

*-*-*

The room was everything Chloé promised, tucked away in the top floor away from casual interaction with other guests, with a stunning view of the Amsterdam canal. They had unpacked and placed the suitcases in the closet. The door was locked, the evening tinting the sky gold.

Sabrina kicked off her shoes, wriggling her toes, then stretched out on the bed with a contented little groan. Chloé snuggled beside her, head on Sabrina’s shoulder, quietly accepting when Sabrina kissed her, brushing blonde hair aside.

“Ma reine du coeur”, Sabrina whispered. “Queen of my heart.”

“Chaton", Chloé whimpered. 

“You were very naughty before I had to go to the hospital”, Sabrina said quietly. “You need discipline.”

“Uh-huh", Chloé nodded, blue eyes shining, tense, agitated. Aroused.

“I don’t know how loud we can be.”

“The staff are very discrete, and I told them I wanted the best room where we won’t disturb anyone”, Chloé explained.

“Good girl", Sabrina complemented. “Strip.”

Chloé scrambled to obey, fumbling to peel out of her charcoal grey suit.

“On the bed, kneeling. Head down.” Sabrina took her time undressing, letting the tension build, then retrieved what looked like an inch wide purple leather luggage tag, half again as long as her hand, pointed, split into two tongues.

“Do you know what this is, what it’s used for?”

“No, Sabrina”, Chloé panted.

“It’s called a pocket tawse. It’s used to discipline people when they are naughty. Isn't it cute? I can carry it anywhere. Even through customs and security.” The slick leather slowly trailed up the back of Chloé's right thigh, over the curve of her ass, up her spine, then just as slowly down to tease the back of her left thigh. “How many clicks did you hear in the days before I went into hospital?”

Chloé thought frantically. “Five! I heard five clicks, Sabrina.”

“Very good, Chloé. You remembered. Than means five licks of the tawse on each of your perfect, smooth, sensitive ass cheeks.” 

Chloé trembled in anticipation, and Sabrina confused her by leaning over and kissing Chloé on her back.

Then Sabrina laid a gentle stroke on Chloé’s right ass cheek, and Chloé gasped and giggled. The light blow was repeated on her left ass cheek. “Ooooo, so scary", Chloé taunted.

Two more, slightly harder strokes stoked Chloe's arousal. “Mmmm. Almost.”

Two more strokes, one on each ass cheek as before, and Chloé yelped. “Yes! More!” 

The first stinging licks. “Aaaah! Better!”, Chloé gasped. 

Two stinging cracks that burned. “Yes!!”

“Oh good. You’re all warmed up now", Sabrina cooed. “Time for your discipline.”

“What?!” Lightning blazed on her ass, twice in rapid succession, making Chloe scream into the pillow. “Oh god! No!”, she moaned, bucking, as the remaining four pairs of strokes left her ass a heated, welt painted canvas of delightful torment. Chloé felt Sabrina slowly thrust her thumb into her slick depths after tossing the tawse on the bed, slowly pumping in and out, fingernails of her other hand gently raking the raised pattern of welts. Chloé moaned, belly rippling.

“You’re soaking wet. I think you like being disciplined", Sabrina said quietly.

“I love it. I love when you make me scream, when you make me come, I need to come!”, Chloé begged.

Sabrina abruptly pulled her thumb free, spanking Chloé firmly, alternating ass cheeks. “How. Many. Times. Do. I. Have. To. Tell. You. Not. To. Boss. Me. Around?!”

Chloé bucked, breasts jiggling pendulously. “I’m so close, Sabrina! Make me come! Make me your slut!”, she whimpered. “Please?!”

Playing a hunch, Sabrina slapped Chloé on her swollen vulva. Chloé howled, hips bucking, shivering, clawing at the bedspread, fluids dripping down her thighs. Sabrina firmly placed her palms on Chloe’s are, feeling the rising blood heat, Chloé moaning at the touch, babbling as Sabrina squeezed.  
“Kiss it better? Tell me you’re going to kiss it better.”, Chloé sniffled. Sabrina sank to her knees, kissing the tender abused flesh of Chloé's ass, then tongue darting, teasing, licking, lips and teeth nibbling. Chloé felt her labia gently tugged apart, Sabrina tonguing and licking, teasing Chloé's clitoris, then suction on the sensitive nub, lashing it with her tongue. Chloé screamed, riding the orgasm, shuddering, moaning. Collapsing face down, panting hard.

Sabrina chuckled. “My, that was quick. Was someone a little pent up?”

Chloé moaned softly. “Mm-hmm. I missed you.”

The bed shifted, Chloé feeling Sabrina lean over and on her, feeling Sabrina press her hips against her ass, gentle, insistent grinding, soft warm breath in Chloé's ear. “I think we should buy a strap-on. I need to feel you in me. I want you to feel me in you.”

“Yes!”, Chloé moaned, hips rolling.

“I want to see what your limits are, ma reine, maybe push them, just a bit.”

“I’m yours! Use me! Test me! Mark me! Just please, chaton, don’t leave, don’t leave!”, Chloé nodded, slightly frantic, arousal building again. “You make me feel alive, like I matter!”

“And if I said right now I want you to lick my pussy, and push my limits?”, Sabrina hinted.

“I’ll need to move.”

Sabrina rolled off Chloé. Night was falling.

Chloé settled her hips over Sabrina's upturned face, leaning over her lover as Sabrina spread and tucked her legs in invitation. Moaning as Sabrina tentatively slid first one finger, then two into Chloé, stroking, exploring, tongue darting and circling Chloé's clit. Chloé shivered, licked and sucked two of her own fingers before teasingly penetrating the needy red-head. Sabrina thrust upwards with her hips, trying to capture Chloé. “More!”, Sabrina demanded. 

Chloé laughed, gasping, feeling how slick and wet Sabrina was already, and added a third finger.

“Yes!”, Sabrina groaned, doing the same, and Chloé gasped.

“Ah! AH! So much, so full! Chaton, please, go easy, I’ve never—oh! I’ve never been so full! So good!” Chloé's hips twitched, bucking, her breasts jiggling, nipples grazing Sabrina’s skin.

“More?”, Sabrina whimpered.

Chloé thrashed her head. “No, please, Sabrina. I’m too full. Too close! So close!”

“I want more!”, Sabrina gasped, and Chloé understood.

A fourth finger slid into Sabrina, stretching her. “God yes!!” Chloé lavished attention on Sabrina's dribbling pussy, licking, teasing, tasting, gently biting.

Sabrina’s free arm suddenly wrapped around Chloé, pulling her close, Sabrina biting Chloé’s thigh as her orgasm ambushed her, groaning.  
The intimate pain shocked Chloé, who exploded in her second very unexpected orgasm, the two young women trembling and bucking together, vibrating in orgasmic harmony. Sabrina’s finger abruptly slid out of Chloé, leaving her open and achingly empty, to clutch and cling to Chloe as Sabrina rocketed into a pussy gushing second orgasm of her own, and a gently twitching third.

Chloé collapsed on Sabrina. Panting, whimpering, feeling Sabrina pecking little kisses on a tender bite Mark, making Chloe twitch.

“I hurt you every time we make love, ma reine. I'm sorry.” 

Chloé slid, rolled off Sabrina, breathing hard. “It doesn’t hurt, chaton. Not how you think it does. And I love it because it’s you doing it. I want to hurt, at least just a little bit. I’m yours. Body, heart, and soul. Use me. Bring me to life.”

Chloé gasped as Sabrina inflicted a sensuous love bite to Chloé's thigh.

“As you wish, ma reine.”


	12. Chapter 12

Former mayor André Bourgeois was waiting for his errant daughter when she and her companion Sabrina Raincomprix strolled into the lobby of Le Grand Paris Hotel trailing four suitcases. Chloé looked positively radiant in a sunflower-yellow spaghetti strap sundress that set off the faint golden tone in her skin. Sabrina was adorably appealing in a similar dress of pale turquoise, covered by a light white cardigan.

“Ivan, will you please send our bags up to my apartment?”, Chloé requested.

“Where have you been?”, André demanded. 

“Amsterdam", Sabrina grinned.

“Young lady, we need to talk! In my office, right now!”, André ordered his daughter. “Send your little pet home.”

“You’re right, Daddy, we do need to talk”, Chloé nodded, studying her new shorter manicure. “Sabrina is coming with me, though. She’s my secretary.”

“What?!”

“Oh, don’t fuss, Daddy. You’re causing a scene. Appearances, remember?”

Chloé hooked a finger to signal Sabrina to follow her, and proceeded to her father's office, with André trailing behind, bewildered, to sit in his imposing office chair, feeling as though he was on the wrong side of the desk in his opulent office.

“Daddy, you’ve been through a lot. Almost three decades as mayor of Paris, a masterful accomplishment in its own right, managing the most elegant boutique hotel in the same city, your divorce from Mother, and raising me at the same time. It must have been such an ordeal” Chloé said calmly. 

“It’s time for you to step aside."

“How dare you--!!”, André Bourgeois sputtered.

“Oh, not completely”, Chloé continued. “You’ll stay on, for a while, as consulting director while I complete my studies and assume my duties and responsibilities as sole owner and manager of our interests.”

“I will do no such thing!”, André blustered.

“Ohh, please don’t say that, Daddy. I’d hate for some very embarrassing stories to reach certain ears in the media, wouldn’t you?”, Chloé subtly threatened.

The color drained from her father's face. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Moi? Certainly not”, Chloé scoffed, hand to her breast, playfully offended. “But disgruntled employees do tend to chatter…”

“This is blackmail!”

Chloé nodded, deadpan. “I learned from a master.”

André slumped in his chair, defeated. He had always indulged his only child. And now it had cost him everything.

“Don’t sulk, Daddy. It doesn’t suit you.”

“How soon do you want me out?”, André mumbled.

Laughter trilled from Chloé. “Weren't you listening? I need you to be a consulting director. I’m not moving into your apartment, that’s for certain. And I do have to finish my studies.”

Chloé snapped her fingers. “Jean?”

“Mademoiselle?”

“Jean, darling, you are hereby relieved of your duties as Bourgeois family butler, effective immediately.”

Jean was devastated. “Oui, mademoiselle…”

“You’ll be assuming your new post as executive manager of the Le Grand Paris Hotel, effective as of…what time is it, Sabrina?”

“Eleven-twenty-nine, Chloé”, Sabrina replied, glancing at her Chat Noir watch.

“… effective as of eleven thirty this morning, Jean”, Chloé smiled.

Jean felt a swell of pride and devotion. “Oui, mademoiselle!!”

“What do I do?”, André inquired, still shocked by the speed of his downfall.

“What you’ve always done, Daddy. But now you’ll be doing it on my orders. Schmooze, flash, and, wheedle. Grease the wheels.”

Chloé rose from her chair. “One last thing: effective immediately, Le Grand Paris Hotel is LGBTQ friendly. I’ve had Ivan put the pride flags on the door. Discretely, of course.”

“We can’t have… those kind of people in here!”, André Bourgeois sputtered.

“You had no problem taking Jagged Stone's money”, Chloé pointed out.

“What does that have to do with allowing gays in the hotel?”

“Daddy, Jagged is as gay as Sir Elton. Gayer, in fact.”

Realization dawned on André, mouth open in a silent ‘Ooooh' of comprehension.

*-*-*

The door to her apartment closed, and Chloé let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as Sabrina engaged the locks. Chloé leaned forward, bracing against her legs slightly, dizzy, slightly nauseous.

“I can’t believe I just did that!”, Chloé whispered.

Sabrina gently stroked Chloé's back through the thin material of her dress. “You did beautifully, ma reine.”

“I could really, really use a drink right now", Chloé muttered.

Sabrina held up a small bottle of champagne. “A tiny glass to celebrate.”

“You’re amazing, Sabrina. I don’t deserve you.”

Sabrina swatted Chloé gently on her bottom. “Yes, you do. I’m your karma.”

“I think I can live with that", Chloé giggled, standing up. “It’s your driving on your scooter that terrifies me.”

Sabrina moved to the kitchenette, retrieved two champagne flutes and popped the cork, pouring two glasses.

“To karma”, Sabrina proposed.

“To…love", Chloé replied, toasting, then sipping her champagne. She looked into Sabrina's eyes.

“I never said that before. Not to anyone. But I’m saying it to you, Sabrina”, Chloé confessed.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Chloé”, Sabrina nodded, setting aside her glass, taking her girlfriend's and doing the same, then embraced the shivering heiress, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose.

“I’m here for you, with you. I always will be, ma reine.” 

Chloé snuggled in Sabrina's embrace. “I feel safe with you like this.”

Sabrina kissed Chloé. “You spoiled me in Amsterdam.”

“I owe you.”

“Not a thing”, Sabrina smiled. “Do we want to try on our purchases?”

Chloé shook her head. “Not now. We have an errand to run, and I'm going to need your immoral support.”

Sabrina raised an eyebrow.

“I meant what I said”, Chloé smirked.

*-*-*

Chloé stood on the sidewalk, fidgeting with her scooter helmet strap as it hung from her hands. 

“I don’t know about this? What if they hate me?”, Chloé whined.

“You’re the one who came up with this idea", Sabrina said quietly.

“You should have stopped me!”

“And then you would have been mad at me for no reason, and you wouldn’t get a spanking.”

“I hate it when you use my baser instincts against me!”, Chloé complained.

“Go. We'll get a treat when you’re done.”

Chloé suddenly gripped Sabrina's hand. “I’m serious. I’m really scared.”

A gentle kiss of encouragement. “This is a good idea, and it will make things better, and you’ll feel better.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Go.”

Chloé took a deep breath to steady her nerves, handed Sabrina her helmet, then stepped to open the door.

*-*-*

The bell over the door chimed, and Tom DuPain turned around, face darkening when he saw who'd entered. “You’re in the wrong place, Miss Bourgeois. Please leave.”

“Good afternoon, Monsieur DuPain. I’m here with a proposition.”

“I don’t care. Take it and go.”

“Please hear me out, perhaps with your wife?”

“Thomas? What is it, what’s going—oh. Hello, Chloé”, Sabine Cheng said flatly as she exited the proofing room to see why her husband was aggravated.

Chloé held out an envelope. “As I attempted to explain, I’ve come with a proposal.”

Sabine plucked it out of Chloé's hand and passed it to Tom, who opened it and read the single page within. “You can’t be serious. After everything you’ve done?”

“Dead serious. Exclusive supplier to Le Grand Paris restaurant.”

Sabine moved to look at the page, whistled. “That’s an impressive number of zeros.”

“Money doesn’t buy everything", Marinette's father glowered.

“I understand that, Monsieur DuPain. Which is why I want to extend my deepest apologies to you and your family for everything I’ve done. I am truly sorry.”

Sabine put a gentle hand on her husband’s arm. “Sign the contract.”

Tom DuPain nodded, mollified, and applied his signature. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“One other thing--", Chloé began.

“I knew it! I knew there was a catch!”, Tom objected, interrupting.

Chloé cleared her throat, annoyed at being cut short. “One. Other. Thing. As I was saying, would you please pass this on to Marinette? Feel free to read it and decide then what to do with it. I don’t care either way.” Chloé pouted, holding out a second, smaller envelope, unsealed.

Tom took the offered item as if it were red hot, opening it suspiciously, then reading the plain white folded card, offering it to Sabine to inspect.

Sabine nodded. “We will pass this to Marinette. We make no promises.”

Chloé bowed her head for a moment. “Understood. Thank you.”

Outside, Chloé marched straight to Sabrina and clung to her, shuddering. “They hate me", she sniffled.

Sabrina consoled Chloé, stroking her hair. “Did they turn you down or reject your offer?”

“No.”

“Then they don’t hate you”, Sabrina replied. “They just need a little time.”

Chloé sniffled again. “You said we'd get a treat.”

“Helmet on first, and then your choice.”

Chloé complied. “Sushi?”, a note of joyful anticipation.

“As you wish, ma reine.”

“You’re too good to me, chaton.”


	13. Chapter 13

Only one lamp was on when Sabrina opened the unlocked door of Chloé's private apartment, casting just enough lambent golden light that one wouldn’t run into furniture in the shadows. The floor to ceiling drapes were spread wide, the light of the Paris night spilling into the room, patio doors open, admitting the cool night air. 

The attractive blonde heiress was sprawled comfortably in the end of the sectional couch closest to the modest kitchenette, head leaned in her left hand, a wine glass dangling in her right, dressed in a comfortable black pullover shirtdress, barefoot.

Sabrina slipped off her shoes and placed her Vespa helmet on the floor, then walked to confront her girlfriend.

“Before you say anything”, Chloé spoke up, sensing Sabrina was there through closed eyes, “I had an argument with my class scheduler, the professors in two of our classes are idiots, yes, I heard the seven pen clicks today, yes, that blundering oaf stood on my toe, I had three completely unreasonable client complaints during my shift, and Daddy is being a petulant ass. I earned this!” Chloé very deliberately took a large sip from the bubbly contents of her glass.

“Chloé, we talked about this!”, Sabrina protested, stamping a foot in distress.

Chloé leaned to pick up the green bottle, poured a share into her glass and held the bottle out to Sabrina.

“No, thank you!”, Sabrina huffed, crossing her arms defensively.

“Read the label", Chloé smirked.

Bottle in hand, Sabrina leaned into the lamplight to peruse the label.

“Sparkling pear cocktai…Chloé, you little witch!! You had me scared half to death!”

Laughter pealed from Chloé’s throat, head thrown back. “God, the look on your face! I really had you convinced!”

“Honestly! That was mean!”

Chloé grinned impishly. “I made you a promise. I’m keeping it. No more drinking unless you’re here to monitor me.”

Sabrina was confused. “So this…?”

“Gives me all the sensory things I like about drinking, but none of the nasty side effects, which, by the way include upsetting you. Now, what did you bring for dinner?”, Chloé greeted Sabrina with a warm embrace and a kiss.

“Orange halibut and rice pilaf…Chloé, you know I worry about you. Why would you do something so mean?”, Sabrina demanded, gently disengaging from the embrace.

“I wanted to show you even if I broke down, I could still make a responsible decision”, Chloé pouted, flouncing back down onto the couch.

Sabrina knelt, tucking ginger hair behind her ear, looking up into saddened blue eyes. “I’m proud of you, baby. I am. You made a good decision. Just please don’t tease me about important things. Tell me next time?”

“Do I still get a spanking tonight?”

“You’ve earned it. In more ways than one”, Sabrina smiled. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

“I want to throw things at people sometimes, they’re so stupid!”, Chloé fretted.

“That’s your mother talking.”

Chloé stuck out her tongue.

Sabrina rose, turned on the dining area lights and started laying out supper. Chloé watching, half draped over the arm of the couch.

“Which darling little restaurant provided tonight’s supper?”, Chloé inquired.

“Home”, Sabrina replied. “I made enough last night to bring.”

“I’m eating leftovers?!”

Sabrina looked at Chloé over her shoulder. “Not everyone can afford fine dining every meal, ma reine, and I'm still just a student living at home.”

“But you're my secretary!”, Chloé protested.

“Yes, and I still haven’t been paid.”

“What?!”

Sabrina crossed to kneel and kiss Chloé on the tip of her nose. “Welcome to responsibility.”

Chloé looked away, processing. “How do I pay you?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Who's looking after payroll?”

“Jean, of course! You were there when I made him executive manager.”

“Did you tell him I’m your secretary now?”

Chloé buried her face in the couch cushions. “I’m an idiot! A stupid, useless--"

“Chloé, stop that at once!”, Sabrina commanded, standing up.

“Yes, Sabrina”, Chloé sniffled. “I'm…I should have thought of that.”

“You can attend to it later. Come and have supper.”

Chloé sat, and Sabrina poured sparkling pear cocktail for both of them. Chloé picked at her food, dubious, tried a small forkful and was pleasantly delighted.

“This is good!”, she exclaimed.

“Simple food usually is.”

Silence for a moment as they ate.

Chloé looked up, hesitant, maybe a little afraid. She drew a shaky breath. “I had my first appointment today. It…went well? I think?”

Sabrina was torn between joy and pride. “Oh, baby…I…we're going to do something special tonight, alright? I’m so proud of you!”

They finished eating, Sabrina clearing away the dishes, Chloé hovering nearby.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Sabrina.”

“Strip.”

Chloé peeled off her shirtdress to stand nude before Sabrina, who blinked.

“You went out like that?!”

“All day!”, Chloé smiled, blushing. “Sitting right next to you in class, and you didn’t know.”

“I…suspected. You naughty little minx.”

Sabrina took gentle hold of Chloé's right nipple, tugging, leading Chloé to her bedroom, the taller girl almost dancing to keep pace.  
“On the bed, kneeling, that sweet ass of yours in the air", Sabrina commanded, turning on the bedroom overhead light.

“Yes, Sabrina", Chloé hastened to obey, positioning herself as instructed, wiggling enticingly, eyes closed, hearing sounds of clothing being shed, whispers of cloth on skin, quiet clicks of fasteners. A zipper, something being moved, objects placed on the bed beside her.

Something flat, rigid but yielding ‘cracked’ softly on Chloé’s upturned bottom, more sensation than sting, a pair of black leather paddles landing with a rhythmic cadence that soon left her ass a delightful shade of pale red, and Chloé almost frantic. “Oh god, this is worse than the belt!”, she whimpered, fingers clenching her bedspread, gasping. Sabrina was relentless, ensuring every square inch of her girlfriend's ass was a uniform dark pink.

Chloé was trembling when the next sensation hit her.

Multiple strips of soft fur, landing with a delicate, delightful impact, Chloé not knowing whether to giggle or moan as Sabrina teased her with a rabbit fur flogger.

“Oh! Yes! I’m going crazy! My ass! My ass! What are you doing?!”, Chloé whimpered.

The flogging stopped. And a cool, drifting, lightweight touch slid over her burning flesh.

“What is that?!”, Chloé demanded.

“Silk scarf", Sabrina murmured.

“What?!”

The scarf drifted over her bottom again, and Chloé shivered. “It doesn’t hurt, but Ohmigod, that feels good!!”

“Mmmm, really?”

Chloé nodded enthusiastically. 

A whipcrack sound, and a fingertip of fire touched Chloé's ass, Sabrina flicking the corner of the silk like a whip.

“And now?”. Mocking, teasing.

Chloé shuddered. “HAH!! YES!! MORE!!”, she screamed.

Popping, burning licks sparked at random on her bottom, Chloé yipping, panting, moaning at each stinging strike, wriggling in an attempt to evade the stinging silk. Until one burning kiss flicked her moist, sensitive vulva, ripping a shriek out of her, frantically rubbing at the fiery sensation. “Ooohhhhhhh, shit! Hah! No more! No more! I gonna…Uunhhh!”, Chloé bucked as her orgasm hit, hips dancing, legs contracting her into a ball of sensation on the bed. She rolled to one side, panting, flushed, gazing at Sabrina with lust-clouded blue eyes.

“Thank you…”, Chloé giggled, riding the endorphin rush.

“You liked your warm up?”, Sabrina inquired sweetly.

Chloé grinned, seeing Sabrina wearing only the violet waist-cincher and black silk stockings they had selected in Amsterdam, her pert, thick-nippled breasts standing proud, tinted with the pink of exertion.

“There’s more?”, Chloé asked, amazed.

Sabrina held up a gleaming steel device equipped with a needle-adorned rowel. “Oh yes", she grinned. ”Roll on your belly, spread your legs.”

Chloé whimpered and complied.

Sabrina draped herself between Chloé's thighs, bestowing a light kiss on each reddened ass cheek. “Such a good girl, doing so well. Letting me beat your cute little ass. And now…now you get this.”

Chloé inhaled sharply, almost not flinching as the needle teeth of the Wartenberg wheel touched her hypersensitive skin, tracing a random path over her abused bottom, a tingling, itching trail of arousing embers that danced just under her skin, Sabrina humming a quiet tune as she applied the fiendish device to her lover's skin, listening as Chloé’s palms rapidly slapped the bedclothes in overstimulation.

Chloé’s nerves sang with arousal, hips hammering the bed when the infernal prickling wheel ascended the path of her spine and descended the same route. She felt Sabrina move up, her bodyweight pinning Chloé to the mattress as Sabrina whispered in her ear. “Roll over. I want to tease those fabulous tits of yours…and maybe do a bit more…”

“Yes, Sabrina”, Chloé husked breathily, rolling over, spreading her legs when Sabrina moved.

“Oh…is than an invitation?”, Sabrina chuckled.

“I’m yours, Sabrina. Use me however you want…Aaahh!”, Chloé gasped as Sabrina ran the Wartenberg wheel over Chloé’s breasts and belly, slowly working toward the narrow patch of golden pubic hair.

The prickling touch disappeared.

And a razor-tipped rake ran feather-light once up Chloé's dripping cleft. Before she could scream, Sabrina's lips and tongue were busy, licking, nipping, tasting, plunging deep, suckling. Sabrina used Chloé’s own slippery secretions to lubricate two fingers, slowly sliding them deep into her lover's accepting wet core, feeling her tremble and clench, watching as Chloé’s belly fluttered, legs trembling as she raced to her second climax of the evening.

Chloé’s thighs clamped shut, both hands tangled, gripping Sabrina’s bright red hair, trying to pull her deeper, shrieking, head pounding the mattress, eyes clenched.

Chloé passed out, going limp.

Sabrina was there, gazing intently into Chloé’s blue eyes when she returned to the world.

“Hi", Sabrina grinned.

Chloé chuckled. “As a kite, chaton.”

“Feel better?”

Chloé stretched languidly, revelling in sensation, before cuddling close to Sabrina. “Marvellous, radiant even”, she murmured as Sabrina stroked her sensitized skin.

Sabrina kissed Chloé, nibbling at her lower lip. “You’re a sweaty mess. Shower time.”

Chloé smiled, tugging gently on Sabrina’s nipple, eliciting a whimper. “A quick one. There’s a soaker tub big enough for two, you know.”

“Oooo, nice—OUCH!”, Sabrina yipped, sitting up with a jolt, reaching for her shoulder.

“Are you alright?!”, Chloé lifted up enough to see that Sabrina had rolled onto the sharp tines of the Wartenberg wheel she'd discarded on the bed. Pinpricks of blood on pale skin.

“Ooohhh! Owie!”, Sabrina whined, pouting.

Chloé scrambled to her feet, still slightly wobbly from her orgasm and escorted Sabrina to the èn-suite bathroom, started the shower, and stepped in with Sabrina, ministering to the minor wound. “It doesn’t look as bad as I bet that feels.”

Sabrina hissed the sting, grimacing. “Thank you, Chloé. It was my own fault though.”

Chloé stepped out of the showering enough to start filling the soaker tub, then back in to cuddle Sabrina. They stood under the warm shower, breasts rubbing together, arms around each other's waists, sharing gentle kisses. A few minutes later, Chloé turned off the shower, and led her girlfriend the three steps to the oval soaker tub adjacent to the shower enclosure.

Chloé settled into the hot water, groaning when it touched her hypersensitive skin, morning to Sabrina to join her. The slender red-head stepped in carefully, settling on Chloé’s left, trying not to crowd the blonde heiress. Chloé responded by draping her arm around Sabrina, turning just enough to kiss her. Sabrina blushed, suddenly shy.

“Penny for your thoughts", Chloé murmured.

“This just feels so intimate…”

Chloé smirked. “This from the girl who had her fingers and tongue in my pussy ten minutes ago.”

“That’s different. That’s…sex. This is, hmm, I don’t know! I…you’re my first real relationship!”, Sabrina complained.

Chloé nodded, kissed Sabrina. “Mine too.”

“But your…flings? Liaisons with the boys you…”

“Sex because I was bored. Or horny. Or because I thought I had to”, Chloé admitted. “I didn’t care about them. Hell, two of them were friends of Adrian that I slept with to try to make him jealous. That was a waste of time.”

Sabrina changed the subject. “So what’s so special about this tub?”

Chloé touched the waterproof controls, the overhead bathroom light replaced by subdued and romantic slowly changing LED lights, soft music drifting from concealed speakers. “Not much”, she said, enjoying the look of joy on Sabrina's face. 

Sabrina moved, caressing Chloé, kissing her. “I’m jealous.”

“Sit in front of me, with your back to me", Chloé suggested. Some splashing as Sabrina did so. “Get comfy, spread your legs…a bit more. Good.”   
Sabrina giggled. “And now?”  
Chloé tapped the controls again, and massaging jets of water surged into the tub, delightfully surprising Sabrina.

“Oh! My, yessss…”, Sabrina sighed in sybaritic comfort. Chloé held Sabrina close, gently stroking and squeezing her breasts, teasing her nipples, other hand trailing lower as Chloé kissed Sabrina's neck, Sabrina whimpering quietly.

Manicured fingers combed ginger pubic hair, seeking, touching, exploring, penetrating. Sabrina’s hips began a slow, rolling undulation beneath Chloé’s manipulations. Sabrina let her head fall back, relaxing, revelling in sensation, one hand pinning Chloé’s to her breast. “Oh, that feels so good, baby...” A soft gasp of delight. “Yes! Right there! More!!” Sabrina’s hips rolled faster, insistent, tension building.

“Yes, yes, yes! More! Don’t stop! No! More! Yes!! Ah, please, baby, please Chloé, oh! That’s…yes! Ahhhhh! AAAAAHHHH!”, Sabrina moaned, Chloé biting her neck, bucking as her orgasm crashed into her, splashing water as she thrashed in release. “Ah! God!! Hah!!”

Sabrina went limp, sated, languid. Chloé chuckled in her ear, pecking a kiss behind her jaw.

“How's my girl?”

Sabrina smiled drunkenly at her lover. “I’m marrying your bathtub.”


	14. Chapter 14

Traffic on the street was a familiar background murmur in the busy but not crowded luncheon café some blocks from the Eiffel Tower. The patrons were a handful of typical Anglo or American tourists in tacky off-the-rack clothing, some couples engaged in clandestine assignations, and a scattering of businessmen or financiers occupied with their demanding affairs.

A striking blonde beauty in a near-perfect copy of the Edith Head original pale charcoal grey ensemble worn by Kim Novak in ‘Vertigo' sat at a small table, hair worn in the same neat rosette bun, nervously tapping at her mobile.

*She’s not going to come, I just know it!*, Chloé Bourgeois complained via text.

Buzz-ping. 

Sabrina's reply. *Her loss then.*

Chloé glanced around, trying to mask her growing apprehension. *She’s late!*

A pause. Buzz-ping.

*You stood people up how many times?*, Chloé read, a small moue of displeasure bending her lips. She hated it when Sabrina was right.

“I didn’t think you’d actually turn up”, the voice announced coolly from Chloé's right. “My parents both thought this was a terrible idea.”

Chloé looked up to meet the almost-hostile glare of her one-time rival. “Bonjour, Marinette. S'il vous plaît”, she said, politely indicating at the chair opposite.

“You never use my given name, Chloé”, Marinette pointed out, still standing. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull this time?”

Chloé took a moment to glance at Adrian's fiancée. She was gorgeous in fitted Capris and an off the shoulder blue silk chemise that matched her eyes, lustrous black hair in a ponytail that should have looked immature, but DuPain-Chang pulled off wonderfully.

“Please sit down", Chloé requested again. “I’m going to get a dreadful kink in my neck if I have to look up at you while we discuss my proposal.”

Marinette extracted a small folded card from her purse and held it up to Chloé. “You’re serious?”, she demanded.

“Marinette, please. I’m getting a headache, and I don’t want to be all cross for this evening. I... have an engagement I’d like to enjoy.” 

Chloé’s former nemesis dropped into the chair, arms crossed. “I’m here, as you requested, and very much against the advice of my father. But for some reason, they both thought I should give you the benefit of the doubt, one last time. I’m warning you, Chloé, the first sign of any of your dirty tricks, I’ll make you regret it.”

“But that’s just it. I do regret it", Chloé demurred. “We’ve known each other, what, fifteen, sixteen years? And I was at your throat out of jealousy."

Marinette blinked, astonished.

“What…?”

“I’m sorry.”

Marinette tilted her head to one side, tapping her ear with the palm of one hand, one eye squinting. “I’m hearing things. I must be. No way did Chloé Bourgeois just apologise to me.”

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I was horrid and beastly to you for no good reason.” Chloé took a nervous sip of the water from her glass to settle her stomach. “You and dear Adri-ki…Adrian", she corrected herself.

“You’re having me on", Marinette said, too calmly. “You’re taking the piss with me, and any second now your goons are going to pop out with a video camera to immortalize my humiliation! I’m not having it, Chloé! Not this time!”, she exclaimed, rising from her seat.

“Do stop being a twit and Sit. Down!”, Chloé hissed. “You making a scene is making this harder than it needs to be!”

Marinette sat, cheeks flushed, still suspicious. “What the hell is going on?! Where the hell is your little peon, Sabrina, anyway?”

“Don’t you dare speak of Sabrina that way!” Chloé’s tone made Marinette pause. “Don’t you dare insult the one person who never, ever gave up on me!” She was breathing hard, furious. “All I wanted to do was apologize to you for being an insufferable bitch for years, and ask if you’d please design new staff uniforms for the hotel and restaurant, and all you want to do is fight and-and…” The sob that hitched out of Chloé's chest surprised both of them.

Marinette quickly handed Chloé a tissue to dab at her eyes, and sniffle. 

“Jesus, I’m going to look like a racoon", Chloé complained quietly. “My makeup is ruined.”

“I’m sorry", Marinette mumbled, ashamed.

“Don’t be. You had… have", Chloé corrected herself, “every right to feel suspicious. I gave you more than enough reason.” A hitching sigh. “Times like this I really hate my therapist.”

A pause that stretched out in awkward silence.

Buzz-ping. Chloé glanced at her mobile. 

“Pardon me", Chloé said, tapping a reply. Finished, she put the phone down on the table.

“You were serious”, Marinette said, eyes searching for a hint of betrayal.

“Completely. I want to commission you to design new uniforms for the doormen, porters, clerks, and housekeeping for the hotel, and the same for our kitchen staff, maître d', wine stewards, servers, and attendants of the restaurant. Your usual rates, plus ten percent for short notice, with a completion bonus on delivery. If you could discuss my proposition with Monsieur Agreste for production, I’d be most grateful.”

Marinette pinched herself on the arm. Hard. Chloé raised an eyebrow. 

“I had to make sure I’m not dreaming", Marinette explained with a shrug. Chloé nodded in comprehension. 

A gleam of inquisitive curiosity sparked in Marinette's blue eyes. “Should I be asking why you’re turning over a forest of leaves?”

Chloé’s turn to shrug. “Maybe I got tired of being hated.” A pause, a faint smile appearing on her lips, softening her expression. “Maybe because I’m loved, and in love”, she said quietly.

Marinette scoffed, arms crossed. “You? In love?”

Furniture legs scraped against tile as Sabrina swung a chair into place to sit beside Chloe, taking her hand once seated. “Since when did you give up on what Miss Bustier taught us, Marinette?” Sabrina pecked a kiss on Chloé's knuckles. “How are you doing, ma reine?”

“I feel like I’m going to be ill”, Chloé swallowed hard.

Sabrina glared at Marinette, who sat in open-mouthed astonishment. “What?”, Sabrina demanded, defensive.

It took several tries before Marinette could speak. “You? You're…?”

“Girlfriends?”, Sabrina almost sneered. “Lovers? Scandalous?”

“No, I…I-I'm-“, Marinette stammered. “This is a lot to take in at once! Chloé behaving like a human being, and you, Sabrina, assertive?!”

“Oh, this isn’t assertive", Sabrina chirped. “This is me standing up for my girlfriend. Later I’m going to settle down and have a nice massive panic attack.” 

Now Chloé was glaring at Marinette. “Do you want the job or not, DuPai…Marinette?”

“Adrian is going to think I’ve lost my mind. Or been akumatised.”

“Don’t even joke about that!", Sabrina warned, plucking Marinette’s water glass from in front of her, sipping, claiming it. 

Marinette took a moment to study the two seated across from her. “My god, you two really have changed.”

“I don’t know, chaton", Chloé smirked, regaining her footing emotionally. “Do you think Marinette can pull it off, the job we’ve offered her?”

“I don’t know, ma reine. Maybe Rose was wrong. This is much more of a challenge than designing costumes for a band.”

“Stuff your bonus! I’ll have the designs for you by Monday!”, Marinette huffed, gathering her belongings and stomping out of the café.

Chloé and Sabrina looked each other in the eye, then burst out giggling.

“Using her pride against her?! That was evil, chaton!”, Chloé grinned.

“There is a part of her that will always want to prove she's smarter than you, ma reine", Sabrina pointed out. “Besides, I learned how to make puppets dance by watching the best.” 

“That's not me anymore, chaton”, Chloé smiled, nibbling Sabrina’s ear and eliciting a tiny pleasurable gasp. “I dance to your beat now.”


End file.
